


Task Force 141's Deepest Covert

by QuietAlias



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Game: Call of Duty, Game: Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, Game: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, Game: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietAlias/pseuds/QuietAlias
Summary: As an unspoken bond between Lieutenant Catriona Esmeralda MacMillian and Captain John "Soap" MacTavish is never said outside of their Task Force. The two have been together for seven years, and when out in the field, they work as one. The affix so close, a small underlying smoldering, from what, the common soldier doesn't know. Having the same ticks, reactions and movements as the other when certain things are said, hiding behind the wall that is Task Force 141's other members.Always confident to go in anywhere together, knowing full well what the other one is willing to do for the other.All because of one thing.The Mission That Never Happened.
Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

“Stop moving around so much, you’re going to make it flip!” I smack Soap’s arm, him clearly ignoring me with his laughter. I told him I hate hammocks, and what does this idiot do? Rocking it back and forth, he assures me that he wouldn’t let me fall. Maybe he wouldn’t let me, but that doesn’t mean that we both can’t be flipped off.

“Ah, c’mon, Tonia,” his voice still cackling, “we’re fine.”

“Stop it, or I’m going to jump off.”

He wraps both of his arms around me, the hammock swings slightly without him twisting the edges. All of us are off base right now, rightly earned as well. The Task Force One-Four-One took down a sizable Ultranationalist, Semyon Kuznetsov, who was in the middle of planning attack towards a village in Somalia. Planning to get rid of every last member of that village, for reasons that we never found out. It wasn’t written anywhere in any of the intel we found. At the end of it, who gives a shit about his reasons for that? Not us.

We’re in a cozy little get away area, a villa, I suppose. Rather nice, has a few hammocks, a pool, plenty of room for all of us to be comfortable with and quite the video game room, which is our collections put together. Soap and I decided to slink away from their competition brewing within that room. Said he wanted some quiet, then proceeds to be an ass. Don’t get me wrong, I love this man with every piece of me, doesn’t mean that I don’t think he’s an asshole from time to time.

As we slowly swing back and forth, me slightly laying on him, my legs in the middle of his. There’s a small breeze, light overcast and it’s such a nice change of pace from the bases we bounce back and forth through. We were given this time off, and all of us were ready to go as soon as it was granted. Packed up that day and came straight here. Maybe we were planning to go even if they said we couldn’t, maybe we already reserved it. The higher ups don’t need to know that, though they did grant us the amount of time we asked. We weren’t sure if we’d even get half of it, taking care of Semyon seemed to loosen the grip they have on us at all times.

“This could be better,” Soap pats my hand, “go get us some drinks.”

I sit up, “You come with me, or I’m bringing you back water.”

Sighing, he works to get out of the hammock. He didn’t realize it was a little bit further off the ground since he just got both of us thrown off of it. At least we landed in the grass. “That wasn’t on purpose,” he says as he dusts himself off.

“Course it wasn’t,” I playfully glare at him. The two of us walk up the stairs to where the kitchen is, my Dad, Vince MacMillian, is in the middle of making haggis. The others, outside the three of us, have never had it and they all agreed to try it.

Dad looks me over, “You both get thrown off?”

“T’was Soap’s fault, per usual.”

“Hey,” he sits next to me at the island counter, “wasn’t on purpose.”

Chuckling, Dad shook his head at the two of us. “Suppose you two came in for a drink or something? Or are you going to join all that racket happening downstairs?”

“The former,” Soap looks towards the blender Dad had been using, “making mixed drinks, Mac? Thought you were a lager man.”

“I am a lager man, but not everyone in this house is. Especially not my pride and joy, who hates the stuff.”

I laugh, “Hard liquor or no drinking. Keep your rancid grapes and nasty wheat juice out of my sight.”

“What’s in there, anyway?”

Dad side-eyes me, “Her favorite drink, ‘sex on the beach’, but don’t get any ideas, boy.”

Soap and I both smirk as Dad hands us both a glass, him shaking his head. He’s still getting used to be exposed to the two of us when we’re not on base. Soap and I have been together for sixish years, we can’t go too overboard while on base or while in uniform. So, we are a little more open about it the times we can get away with it. Which meant a bit more touching than normal because we knew as soon as leave was over, we’d have to go back to being soldiers. We enjoy our time with being able to be lovers, it bothers the group sometimes, but I’ve already told them they can bite me.

“Oh, fuck you!” Roach’s Tennessee yell bouncing against the walls of the stairway as we hear him stomping up.

Turning to look at him, “You good, Gary?”

His eyes shoot down where the room would be, “Yeah, I’m good, it’s GHOST WHO IS THE FUCKING CHEATER!”

“SAY THAT TO MY FACE!” We can sort of hear Ghost’s retort, though muffled.

“That ass… ooo, mixed drinks? Should’ve let me know, couldn’t hear the blender over all the shouting downstairs.”

Dad sets a glass in front of the stool next to Soap, “You’re welcome.”

Roach scoots the stool closer to the counter, “Thanks, Mac,” he sticks a straw in his drink. He looks at us, “Are you too cooling down with all that gushy stuff?”

Soap sets his glass down, “We were, but we can go right back to doing that, can’t we love?”

Wrapping my arms around one of Soap’s arms, “We sure can, sweetheart.”

Roach rolls his eyes, “Mushy gushy bleh,” he sips his drink.

The two of us share a small chuckle, me removing my arms from his arm. Our little chit chat gets broken by Griggs’ roar, “GO FUCK YOURSELF, CAPTAIN JACKASS!”

“Price?” Soap raises an eyebrow.

“There’s no other Captain downstairs, so I assume so.”

Another set of footsteps bound up the stairs just as Roach had did, him walking over with his arms crossed. “Your protégé or whatever, Mac, is being a dick.”

Dad looks over his shoulder, “Tell me about it.”

He takes another seat also at the island counter, “Can you grab me one of my bottles from the fridge, Roach?”

With a simple nod, he leans back to grab the handle of the fridge. It takes him a moment to actually grab a bottle because he’s being lazy and doesn’t want to stand up. He closes the door, “Got it,” he slides the bottle to Griggs.

“Thanks,” he looks at the rest of our drinks, “didn’t know you and Soap drank girly drinks.”

“That ‘girly’ drink, Griggs, is vodka, peach schnapps and vermouth. So, keep your four-point five percent away from my nearly fifteen percent worth of alcohol, thank you very much,” I sip from my glass.

“Soap control your woman,” he jests.

Soap looks over at me, “I’ll dig his grave in the backyard, love.”

Another set of steps come running up the stairs, “CAT,” Gaz stomps over to me, “COME PUT THESE TWO GUYS IN THEIR PLACE, PLEASE.”

“I can’t fight all your battles, Gaz.”

“Ghost said that you’re not coming downstairs is because you’re trash at video games now.”

“I second that,” Griggs holds his bottle up, “that Ghost said that, by the way.”

“Totally,” Roach sips from his drink, “so much egotism in him.”

Soap bumps his knee into mine, “Going to let him get away with that?”

I roll my eyes because they want to see Ghost and Price get put back into their place, I guess I’m the only one who can provide them that. Finishing off my drink, I start heading down the stairs. Everyone, including Dad, follow behind me. Once I can see the set up, I go and pick up one of the controllers. “You two have fun?” I sit in between them.

Ghost turns to look at me, he doesn’t wear his balaclava while on leave. “Maybe, come down to realize you suck at video games now?”

I scoff, “Just get ready to cry per usual, Simon.”

The game we’re playing is _Super Smash Brothers Brawl_. I always go with _Kirby,_ he’s totally my main. Simon picks _Snake_ , Price picks _Link_ and Gaz decides to hop on the fourth controller, picking _Ike_. The match starts, ten life match. It’s pretty lax at the beginning, it’s because Ghost and I usually get rid of the other two players, so that it becomes down to only us. We don’t do it maliciously or deliberately, though. It just kind of happens. We get down to the wire, Ghost still has three lives, while I’m down to one and a half. My damage percentage is getting too high.

He smirks, “Good game, everyone.”

“Not over yet, Simon,” I glance at him. The fighting is pretty evenly matched, he and I are arguably the best at this game. I’m able to take down one life and boost his percentage into the red zone before he brings me down to my last life. As soon as I spawn in, I get him thrown off the map while I’m invincible. Everyone behind us is rooting for which ever side they want to win, not just my name, Ghost’s as well. I land an extremely lucky hit with my hammer, sending him straight into the left side of the screen, taking his last life.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Ghost shouts at the screen.

I can hear Dad laughing, “That’s my baby girl!”

Soap helps me stand up from the floor, “Good game, Ghost.”

“Good game, Ghost,” he mocks me.

With that, Soap and I go back upstairs to leave the new argument budding downstairs. I think I even heard Dad beginning to argue. He can try to hide it as much as he can, but deep down, I know he’s a gamer like me. We go upstairs to the third story balcony, which has a porch swing. Sitting down, “Bet I can get this to swing us off the balcony and into the pool,” he smiles.

“You do that, and you’ll be spending the rest of this leave by yourself.”

His arm goes over my shoulders to pull me closer to him, I sink down a little bit so I could rest my head slightly on his chest. We sit in silence for a while, swinging back and forth, slightly cuddled up. Can’t hear all the yelling downstairs, which was getting a bit annoying. He shifts, “This is just all too perfect.”

“Too perfect?” I look up at him with just my eyes.

He tightens his hold, “We’re on a good amount of leave, with our whole Task Force, in a nice villa, being able to act like civilians, and I’m able to spend it with the most beautiful woman on the planet. Too perfect.”

I pull away from him, “You with your flirting,” I kiss his cheek.

“Oh, that’s not flirting,” he pulls me on to his lap, “I’ll show you flirting.”

“Really?” My eyes dare him.

He smiles his mischievous smile, his hand gliding up my thigh and under my black skirt. Our lips meet, his hand goes all the way up my skirt, stopping on my outer thigh. My own hand touching _him_ through his jeans. The buttons on my shirt are being undone as I try to zip down his jeans, which is difficult due to how we’re sitting and I’m trying not to… hurt him. “Uhhh…”

I nearly jump off the balcony, shutting my shirt with my hands. Soap zips his jeans back up, and we look at the person who somehow got up here without either of us hearing anything. “Yes, Griggs?” I ask after I clear my throat.

“Your dad told me to find you guys because dinner’s ready,” he laughs quietly, “don’t worry, I won’t be a prick.”

Soap and I quickly fix ourselves before heading downstairs. I’m glad that it was Griggs who caught us, anyone else wouldn’t keep it quiet. Roach necessarily wouldn’t mean to throw it out there, but him reacting to catching us doing that might send him over. “There you are,” Dad looks up from the table.

“Where were you snogging at?” Ghost quips.

“What the fuck does snogging mean?” Griggs and Roach almost ask in unison.

Dad makes a small noise, “I think Americans call it ‘making out’.”

“Oh,” Roach nods, “where were you two hiding?”

I roll my eyes, “We weren’t _hiding_ anywhere. We were up on the third floor’s balcony. That’s the only balcony that has a porch swing.”

“There’s a porch swing?” Gaz looks up at the ceiling.

Price clears his throat, “No, no one can jump off into the pool from the swing.”

“Aww…”

Dad clasps his hands rather loudly, “Let’s not talk about that and eat before the food gets cold. Or before I start throwing everyone off the balcony upstairs.”

Dad, Soap, and I have no qualms on how to eat this, as the others are. Basically, one of the best things Dad makes, and his always turns out better than mine. We’re happily chewing out food, while the others stare down at it. “What’s in this, again?” Price asks.

“If I tell you, you won’t eat it. Either eat it or eat nothing.”

The three of us actually watch them in amusement as they poke around the food. It may look gross, but it’s delicious. A few of them look up to see us staring at them, waiting for the first bite. “Alright,” Roach holds some on a fork, “I’ll go first.”

“Makin’ sound like it’s bad,” Soap wipes his face.

He inhales sharply, putting the fork in his mouth. Chewing for a moment, he smiles, “This is actually surprisingly good! Looks real gross, but it tastes great!”

Roach’s enthusiastic eating makes the rest of them try it for themselves. In turn, they’re actually eating it as well, same comments about how it looks, but it’s delicious. We share small talk over dinner, having a nice time together. We all get along while in uniform, sure, however we’re actually good friends, I’d call them all my family at this point with no hesitation. By the time we’re done eating, which took while since we kept talking. “I think it’s time to hit the hay,” Dad stands up, stretching. “Soap, you sleep on the first floor Catronia you sleep on the third floor.”

“Or,” I stand, “we both sleep on the third floor, because that’s where the biggest bed is.”

“Cat, darling,” Dad begins.

“Dad, I’m an adult and I’ve been with Soap for almost seven years now. He and I will be on the third floor, in the same bed. I’m not asking your permission, either.”

The both of us stare at each other, everyone in the room becoming uncomfortable about this discussion being in front of them. We stare for another minute or so, neither of us breaking eye contact. “Ugh, fine,” he mutters.

With the conversation settled, Soap and I start heading up to the bedroom we’ll be sharing together. Opening the door, we’re staring at the king-sized bed in the middle of the room, “Looks great,” Soap falls back onto the bed.

I peek into the bathroom, “Jacuzzi bathtub, too.”

Walking back over to him, he grabs my wrists, “We can pace ourselves.”

My forearms rest on his shoulders, sliding them forward to be able to kiss him. His hands hold the sides of my hips, him pulling me closer to him. His arms wrap around me completely, him laying backwards on the bed until I’m practically on top of him. I pull away, “Change into your night pants, and I’ll change into one of your shirts. That way we can say we’re in our night clothes.”

Soap stands up, digging through his clothes. I simply walk over to him while he’s looking for his night pants, and I grab the first black t-shirt I see. He pauses digging though his clothing to watch me change. It doesn’t bother me; I happen to watch him get dressed after showering together. Once we’re changed, we’re both standing in front of the bed. I run my hands up his chest, until I’m holding both sides of his face. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, his hands on my hips.

“Room check!” Dad yells as he swings the door open. We both kind of jump away from each other, legitimately scaring the crap out of us. “Where’s your clothes?”

I sigh, “He’s in his night pants, and I always sleep in one of his shirts. It’s just as long as my other night shirts.”

Before he answers, we hear two of our men yelling. All three of us rush down the second floor, just to have Roach and Gaz run behind us, “THERE’S A FUCKING MONSTER FROM HELL IN THERE!” Roach screeches.

“THE DEEPEST OF HELL!”

The rest of us go and peek in their room, looking around for what they saw. Ghost is standing on the bed, looking around the room. “I have no idea what they’re talking about.”

Griggs is trying to stop himself from laughing, “Ya’ll screamed like girls.”

I look around in the room, without going in the room. There’s nothing flying around, there’s nothing on any of the walls. “What did it look like, guys?”

“IT WAS FLYING ALL OVER THE ROOM, HUGE, FLYING AND EVIL!” Gaz refuses to come closer to the room.

Griggs is laughing and he opens the closet. We hear him stop laughing, before he starts screaming just as they did, running out the room. Ghost jumps off the bed to go look in the closest, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!” He takes off out of the room.

Soap is the next one to go see, “Uh… so… there’s a huge nest in here, and the bugs are pretty… big.”

Price, Dad, and I share looks with each other, before entering the room ourselves. There’s a rather big nest in the corner of the closet. Roach comes back in the room, “CLEANSE IT WITH FIRE!”

“Is that my fucking hair spray, Roach?” I snap my eyes to him.

“NO TIME FOR CHAT,” Dad grabs my hair spray before Roach flips on the lighter.

“We are renting this place, Roach, I don’t think they’d be happy if we burnt their villa down.” Dad tosses me the can. He steps in the closet, and then starts laughing like a hyena.

Price looks at him, “You okay, Mac?”

“It’s a fucking…” he can’t stop laughing.

“A what?” Roach peeks around the door.

“fucking cran…”

I take a closer look, “Oh, these are just crane flies.”

“Crane flies?” Griggs is also peeking around the corner.

“Crane flies,” I step back, “they’re unharmful to humans. Huge, yes, but they don’t hurt people.”

Dad composes himself, simply prying the nest out of the corner, “They’re leaving, anyways. That’s why they’re coming out,” he simply tosses it out the window.

I rub my eyes, grabbing Soap’s hand, “Well, this was exciting, but I’m really tired.”

Soap nods, “We’ll see you in the morning, and that’s when I get to crack jokes about how four of the more disciplined soldiers I have ever met, ran away screaming over some flies,” he chuckles.

“Save some of those jokes for me, lad,” Price is shaking his head.

“Oh, and Dad?” I say over my shoulder.

“Yes, Princess?”

“You do another room check like that; I’m going to soak you in ice cold water while you’re sleeping.”

“Fair enough…”

With that, Soap and I go up the stairs back into our room. I lock the door behind me. He sits down on the bed, “Kind of squeaky.”

“Well,” I sit on the floor, “the floor isn’t.” He gives me that smile from before, and then joins me on the floor.


	2. The Sweet Before The Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming back from leave, the feeling of not wanting to come back seeped through all Task Force members. Business is business, there's no arguing. 
> 
> First thing on the table, Cat and Soap are send out into the field. 
> 
> However, will they come back?

I wake up to the sound of Soap snoring, which is a bit off, he rarely snores. I’m able to pry his arms from around me, sitting on the edge of the bed. The clock next to me tells me it’s only six in the morning, and for some God forsaken reason, I’m wide awake. Looking over my shoulder once, Soap is still fast asleep. I debate on whether or not I wake him up, but since he’s snoring, he must be exhausted.

Quietly going down the three sets of stairs to get to the kitchen, my throat is really dry. I open the fridge, pulling one of my iced coffee cans from the back. Everyone else pushed my stuff into the back of the fridge. I take a seat at the island counter, and I just sit in silence because as soon as everyone was awake, everything was going to be loud again. I keep forgetting how good it feels to be alone, especially when I’m overloaded by everything around me.

I decide I’m going to be nice and cook the boys some breakfast, I don’t get to cook a lot anymore, but when they figure out that I’m going to, they get excited because they thoroughly enjoy anything and everything I make. If I so much as pull out sugar, flour and eggs at the same time, Roach automatically asks if I’m making cookies. That boy and his cookie obsession was beyond me, but they make him happy.

Opening the door of the fridge, I take out everything I need to make breakfast. Deciding on making crepes, bacon, and sausage. While my dad and I went to the store, I made sure I grabbed everything we would possibly need for the mornings. Nothing is more irritating than any of the boys being slightly hungry. I mean, I get hangry from time to time, but they don’t get angry, they get whiney.

As I start to make the batter for the crepes, I hear someone coming down the stairs. “Good morning, Princess,” Dad yawns, “making breakfast already?”

I nod, “Body decided to be wide awake at six am, so there wasn’t much else for me to do.”

Dad does what he does every morning, turning on the coffee maker. He glances over the table, “I will never understand your fixation with iced coffee, darling.”

A smile creeps across my face, “It’s simply better than hot coffee to me. I don’t understand how you enjoy lagers.”

“Touché,” he looks at what I pulled out, “what are you making?”

“Crepe buffet, I grabbed all those different fruits for a reason. Not sure what we’re doing tomorrow morning, but this morning is crepes.”

I hear him opening up the package of bacon, “You and Soap sleep well last night?”

“Yeah,” I glance at him, “it’s really nice sleeping in an actual bed, versus those things on the base. I don’t have a crick in my neck, so, yes. You sleep well?”

“As well as I can, Tweedy,” there’s a small chuckle. Dad has some bad PTSD that keeps him up at night sometimes. We don’t mention it around anyone, but Price. Dad is too proud exposing something like that outside of our little circle. Rest of the group doesn’t know, not even Soap. I won’t tell my father’s business if he doesn’t want it to be known.

“Have a bad episode?” I ask, standing next to him at the stove. I’m making the crepes, he’s in the middle of making the bacon.

“Yes, but I got enough sleep,” he looks down at me, “don’t worry about me, Tweedy. I’m supposed to worry about you.”

I bump my hip against him, “You’re my dad, it was just us. Until I was five, then Price was with us from time to time. It’s always been us, knowing that was enough to keep up both comfortable. So, yes, I will worry about you.”

Another set of steps comes down, Roach is rubbing his eyes. He glances through the kitchen, “Are you making cookies?”

Laughing, “No, Roach, I’m making crepes.”

He sits at the island counter, “Anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, actually,” I push him a bowl that has peaches, strawberries, blue berries and some no pit cherries, “can you cut these up so they’re easier to fold?”

“Aye, aye, Lieutenant,” he sarcastically salutes me.

Dad take a moment to look at Roach, “Cookies first thing in the morning, lad?”

“Hey, pancakes, waffles, French toast, those are all pretty sweet. Cookies are sweet too.”

“He’s got a point, Dad.”

“For once,” he mutters.

Roach starts cutting into the fruit, “Separate bowls, right?”

“Yes, thank you, Gary,” I smile up at him.

My dad starts to cook the sausage patties, yet another set of steps came down, “Mornin’,” Soap stretches, “why didn’t you wake me, love?”

Looking at him, “You were snoring, so I figured you really needed the sleep.”

Soap sits at the counter next to Roach, watching him cut up some cherries. He grabs a peach, “Skinned, right, Tonia?”

“Yes, dear.”

The four of us finish making breakfast, setting everything up for the little crepe buffet for us and the others. Surprisingly, no one else has woken up. Roach looks at the stairs, “How does bacon _not_ wake you up?”

“Anyone feel like being assholes?” Soap chuckles.

“How?”

“Four of us, four are sleeping. Each of us go into one of their rooms, turn on the light and give them a good ol’ boot camp wake up.”

The four of us smile and nod as we begin to creep up the stairs. Soap and I sneak down to stand in front of Gaz and Ghost’s room, while Roach and Dad are outside Griggs and Price’s rooms. Dad counts to three with his fingers, as soon as he said three, we throw the doors open. Hit the lights, “GOOD MORNING!” Then we rip their blankets off.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Gaz falls out of his bed.

Ghost glares at us, “How dare you wake me up before the suns up.”

“Aren’t you a little more mature, Mac?” Price asks as he rubs his eyes.

“Not really, not when it comes to stuff like this.”

Griggs throws his pillow at Roach, “Fuck you, man.”

It takes them all a minute, before they start smelling breakfast. Once they realize what they’re smelling, they begin to take off downstairs and into the kitchen. All of us make our plates, before sitting at the kitchen table. “You get a pass this time,” Ghost picks up a piece of bacon, “this time.”

Griggs nods as he sips his orange juice, “You’re lucky there was bacon to keep me from kicking your ass, Gary.”

“Oh, yeah?” Roach looks at him, “after breakfast, bring it.”

Reaching for some napkins, “Good as usual, Cat,” Gaz compliments.

“Soap, Roach and I helped as well,” Dad derisively glares.

“Who made the crepes?” Price asks.

“Cat, but-“

“But nothing, delicious, Cat.”

Soap kisses my temple, “Thank you for breakfast, love.”

“Of course.”

Roach leans back, “So… the flour, sugar, milk, eggs and vanilla extract are still out on the table… Cookies, Cat?”

I raise my eyebrow, “I didn’t use vanilla extract.”

“Well, it’s out there.”

The table laughs, “If I feel like it, Gary.”

“If you do decide to, make sure we _all_ know when they’d be done,” Ghost glared at Roach, “this wanker will have them all to himself.”

“You snooze, you lose, _Riley_.”

Dad sighed rather loudly, “Can we wait for the sun to come up before we all start acting like asshole to each other.”

“Fair ‘nuff,” Soap places his fork down, “fair game as soon as the first ray is seen.”

“First sun ray?” Ghost looks over at us, “kind of like the sun ray you two did to Semyon,” he points his fork at Soap and I.”

I wipe my mouth, “Nine bangers are a gift from God, can’t help that you guys couldn’t keep up with us. Prick’s dead.”

Dad laughs, “We all did our part on that OP, just like the fine oiled machine the One-Four-One is. Though, you two got the last hit. The last thing he saw was the two of you, then he’s sent straight to hell.”

“Too, right.” Price nods.

Soap and I look at each other for a moment, “Look at that, finally confessing that we’re the best,” I quip.

“Glad you’re all finally honest with yourselves.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Roach throws his wadded-up napkin at Soap.

Ghost shake his head, “Let’s see you two get anywhere without any of us.”

“…Simon, we’ve done OPs that were just us plenty of times.” I look at him.

“Shut up, Cat.”

“Constructive as usual,” I giggle behind my drink.

Gaz pokes one of the curtains open, “Asshole behavior isn’t started yet. No sun. No ray. Amazing listening when it comes to an order, mates.”

** Leave Is Over  **

Soap and I sit down in the Task Force One-Four-One’s building, back in uniform. He holds my hand under the table, even though this was our building, people can stop by at any time, including Shepherd. The time we had was an extremely good time for all of us, got to explore the little city we were in. We all solemnly put our uniforms this morning, the first day back and it feels like our leave was a thousand years ago.

We’re waiting at the table, Dad said he was going to go to Shepherd to get updates on what we should be preparing to do. Everyone else will be here momentarily, in the same mood Soap and I are in. The door opens, the rest of us them join us minus Dad and Price. “This sucks,” Griggs sits at the table.

“A whole lot…” Roach mutters.

Dad and Price join the room, taking their spots at the table. “The only main thing that Shepherd has given us, is a stealth mission that requires two people to complete. Those of us who don’t go will have little tasks to deal with,” Dad lays the folder out in front of him.

“Where at, Mac?” Soap asks.

“It’ll be in Yartsevo, Russia,” Price pulls a cigar out of his pocket.

“Right,” Dad glances down, “since there’s quite a bit having to do with tech dealings, Ghost and Gaz will be doing that.”

“Good,” Gaz puts his feet on the table, “I hate stealth missions.”

“Then who’s going?” Roach asks.

Dad looks up, “Soap and Cat. I’d initially go with Price, but he and I have things to do here as well. Those two can handle it just as much as we can. You’ll both be leaving tomorrow morning, okay?”

Soap nods once, “Understood.”

I nudge Soap, “More proof that we’re the best.”

…

Soap and I are in the middle of making our way to the base, in the dead of night. This shouldn’t be difficult, there wasn’t a whole lot of people in this area. It almost looks deserted, given it has the lowest population within Russia. Even though there aren’t a lot of people, Soap and I treat this as we would in any other OP, carefully and quietly. I can start seeing a small glow from what lights are around the base, I look through the scope of my sniper, “No one is in either guard stations. That’s a bit odd, isn’t it?”

“Might be changing shifts,” Soap lies down, “let’s give it a few minutes to see if anyone goes up there.”

Taking my spot next to him, he’s looking at one station and I’m looking at the other one. A breeze starts to run over us, which I love because I’m pretty hot right now. I think we over dressed, but there’s nothing to be done about it. “Still nothing.”

He shakes his head once, “Something doesn’t feel right, Cat.”

I look at him, “Thought that was just me.”

“I haven’t seen a single hostile the entire way up to this ridge. The only thing I’ve seen that might be proof of humans are the lights. Other than that, nothing has moved.”

“Think the intel was bullshit?”

“Aye,” he stands up.

We start our way to the base again, nothing changes. Being extra careful right now because something wasn’t right. I can’t pinpoint what’s wrong, but there’s something wrong. It gets so much weirder the closer we get; we can’t see anyone. No guards, no one walking about, not even any guard dogs. If this place is so important, and so full of information, why aren’t we seeing any guarding at all? Important enough to require such a low profile, then we get here and there’s not a soul in sight.

Climbing into one of the guard stations with Soap, all the feelings get worse. There’s dust covering most of the table, no chair, and it was slightly decaying. No one has been here for a while, maybe they’ve mixed this base up with another one. I look out the window toward the inside of the base, same deal. Even some of the equipment is rusting, how are the lights still on? Everything looks abandoned. There’s no one here to turn on the lights, and they’re not solar powered.

Picking through some of the buildings, the interior even worse than the exterior. There isn’t anything to collect here, the few office looking buildings we’ve walked into, everything was empty. Nothing in the desks, nothing in the eroding file cabinets and really nothing at all. As we get to the last building on the furthest edge of the base, the door was actually locked. Soap kicks the door in, and like another repeat, there’s _literally_ nothing inside. “I think we need to leave, Cat.”

The door slams shut behind us, “This isn’t good…”

We hear a few clinks of something hitting the floor, gas starts filling up the building we’re in. Running away from the smoke they tossed in, Soap tries kicking the door open again, but it doesn’t budge. I try to go for a window; however, they’re covered by some kind of metal. The both of us start backing up into a corner, trying to keep away from what they’re threw in here. As soon as it gets close to us, I’ve figured out what they threw in here. It’s an Incapacitating agent. Soap stood in front of me, and he falls to the floor. Everything gets hazy, and everything goes black.


	3. Hello, Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat and Soap go dark, which can happen for a few days during two people Ops. A day runs into a week, Task Force 141 is trying to track the tracking chips.
> 
> Meanwhile, Soap and Cat make three new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic

My eyes slowly open, and I try sitting up. The moment I do, my wrists pull away from me. They’re both handcuffed, linked to chains that gave some arm movement, and the chains were looped underneath hooks connected to the table. Soap is still passed out in front of me, him in the same position. “Soap,” I whisper. I don’t want the people who did this to us to hear me just yet. I keep shaking his arm.

Soap finally starts coming to, freaking out over the chains he’s in, just as I did. Making eye contact with each other, “What the fuck…”

“I don’t know…”

The door to our left swings open, the doors hitting the walls behind them. Someone we don’t know comes to our table, looking over us for a moment. He has two men standing behind him, each holding a rifle. I look up at his dead eyes, they’re ebony in color, but there’s nothing behind them. No facial hair, brown hair, and he’s a little overweight. I’ve never seen him in my life, and Soap is giving the same look. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Soap states matter of factually.

He smirks, tossing a picture on to the table we’re connected to. My stomach jerks, it’s a picture of our Task Force, our friends, our family. Soap and I were circled, though I don’t know why. Another photo floats down to slightly cover the one they already placed. The photo has Soap and I pictured, right before we kicked the door in. The door to Semyon, minutes before we neutralized him. The two of us just stare down at the pictures, not knowing what to do or what to say. “I’m Maxim Kuznetsov, Semyon’s brother. You know, the person you two killed.”

Brother? We didn’t even know he had a brother, there was no brother in our intel. Ghost and Gaz dug as deep as they could, somehow found the house he grew up in, but they didn’t find that he had a brother? How is that even possible? Ghost and Gaz are the best you could get for their job. There wasn’t even a murmur that he had a brother. There were murmurs when Makarov took Zakhaev’s place, Semyon wasn’t as big as Zakhaev, though.

“What about him?” Soap asks, still looking at the table.

Maxim stands behind me, “What about him?” I feel him wrap his hand around my ponytail, slamming my face into the table in front of him, “What about her?”

 _“Don’t buy into his shit_ ,” I touch the blood coming from my nose, _“Don’t give him anything._ ”

Soap grits his teeth, “That didn’t answer my question.”

My face gets slammed into the table again, though I make sure not to make any pain noises. If they get no reaction from me, they tend to stop doing what they’re doing. “You killed my brother,” my head gets yanked back by my hair to look up at him, “you two killed my blood. You don’t see the issue there?”

“Your _brother_ was about to kill quite a fucking bit of innocent people. If he wasn’t doing that, he wouldn’t have become a target in the first place. You must know about that, right?”

“They weren’t innocent,” his face close to mine, “they were simply in the way, we warned them time and time again to leave that particular area, and they didn’t. If they were so innocent, why didn’t they leave?”

“Because it was a poor village, on the outskirts of Somalia. Where were they supposed to go?”

“Somewhere else.” He lets go of my hair, looking down at the two of us again, “where are they?” He slams the group picture down on the table.

Wiping some of the blood on my face on my wrist, “They’re nowhere, that’s where they are.”

“Ilia,” Maxim nods towards Soap.

Ilia was the person standing on his left side, him pulling his pistol out. Blond hair, and bright blue eyes, kind of scrawny to be honest. He takes his place where Maxim points to, “Let’s ask you, where are they?”

“Like she said, nowhere.”

Ilia pistol whips him, Soap’s head snapping to look left. Ilia is staring at my face, trying to gauge my reaction to him harming Soap. Dad taught me how not to be read, my face blank as can be. If they figure out, we’re together, that’d become a new problem. Couldn’t let them know that, so our reactions won’t be emotion driven. If we do show emotion, everything’s over. Soap spits some blood out of his mouth, “Still nowhere.”

Maxim crouches down to be level with us, “Don’t make this hard, please. You don’t want this to be hard.”

I look at him, “Nowhere, in the country of go fuck yourself.”

He backhands me, “Tough cookie, huh?”

Saying nothing back, I simply stare off in front of me. My eyes looking at Soap’s chest, not anywhere near his face. The room is quiet for a moment, not sure of what they’re going to start doing. “Pavel,” Maxim now nods towards me.

The other person behind him walks towards me, hazel eyes, black hair, and there’s a scar along the side of his face. Pavel undid the lock that the chains were under, “We’ll start with you, first.”

As they’re pulling me out of the room, I look at Soap, _“Don’t say a word, you and I both know we’re dead no matter what we do. We break, we’re basically signing the death warrants to the others. No emotions, remember?”_

Soap nods once, _“No emotions.”_

Another yank and I’m pulled out of the room I was in. I’m taken into the room next door, a solitary chair in the middle. There’s dried blood on the wooden chair and all floor near it. A table is next to it, the top full of different tools, a pack of cigarettes and items that all point to a DIY torture kit. I’m shackled into the chair, Pavel pulling three belts across my collar bone, one over my stomach and the last one wrapped around my shins. “See that,” he points to a vent, “your friend is going to hear everything going on in here.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” 

He stands in front of me, crossing his arms. “This is going to be fun,” his hands hover over the tools on the table. He chooses the cattle prod, slightly wringing it in his hands. Waving in front of me, showing me what it does, trying to get a reaction. Just as before, my face is completely blank. Your fear gives them satisfaction. “I’m asking nicely one more time, bitch, where are the rest of your pathetic little team?”

I glance away, “Guess you’re deaf because I’ve already told you where they are. They’re nowhere, and that’s where they’ll stay.”

Shoving the tip into my shoulder, the volt causing my arm to attempt bucking, but my arms are secured to the handles. Squeezing my eyes shut, trying to keep it in. “Where?” I don’t bother to answer him, the prod jerked up to my neck, the electricity going through my being. He’s looking at my face again, my teeth grit behind my lips.

Tossing the cattle prod back on to the table, he glances over everything again. If that’s their version of torture, these guys are fucking idiots. Cattle prod? Really? Fucking amateurs. Like with the cattle prod, he holds the scalpel against the bottom of the right part my chin. I stare right at it, not saying anything. “Where?”

“Somewhere,” I snap sarcastically.

Pavel drags the scalpel along the bottom of my jaw, the area making my eyes water. They’re not tears, it’s like when you get punched in the nose, your eyes water. Biting my tongue, trying to control my breathing. He moves the scalpel to my collarbone, right above where the belt is tied. He doesn’t say anything, and I’m just staring forward again. The scalpel traces down the right side of my collarbone, a gasp escapes my throat. A smile appears on his face, “Not so tough, huh?”

The blood starts to pool on top of the belt, slowly spilling over to land on my uniform shirt. He pours something into his hands, I can’t see what it is. Slowly walking back over to me, making sure he has whatever it is in both hands. He stands there for a minute, then shoves what I think is now salt, into both wounds. I yell, struggling to get the chair to move backwards. Grabbing the back of my head, “Where?”

“It’s a secret,” I spit on his face.

Leisurely wiping the spit off his face, he stands up. Using my chin to attempt pushing some of the salt off my collarbone. He kicks me full force in the chest, making the chair flip and my head slams against the floor. Everything around my sight becomes fuzzy, and my coughing to find breath.

** Task Force One-Four-One **

** MacMillian’s POV **

I keep pacing back and forth in front of the screen in our building, the rest of them trying to do everything they can do. Soap and Catronia have been dark for a couple days now. Ghost and Gaz had finally found their location, going by their tracking chips. They’ve been moving sporadically, which is really odd, because I don’t think humans can run as fast as the chips are showing. We had contacted another base closer to where they were meant to go, said they’d go find out if that’s them or not. “Anything else?” The table looks back at me.

Roach waves the intel papers in his hand; he was in charge of that because he used to do reconnaissance when he was still in the yank military. “None of these make any sense, Ghost used the coordinates to look at the area with _Google Maps_ , there’s nothing really there. I understand how the picture thing works, but there’s rusting equipment.”

Ghost types away, “Pulling it on screen now.”

The screen fills with what Ghost casted, him zooming in on the area as much as possible. Roach was right, a lot of the equipment looked broken, buildings were shambles. I shake my head, “Where the fuck did that intel come from?”

Digging through the pages, “That’s the other thing, it doesn’t explain where this information came from. Says a packet was left near the entrance to our base, got sent to Shepherd and he took it as viable.”

Price slams his hands on the table, “Are you fucking telling me that the fucking General took some stupid packet as truth? Did he look into it? Who looked into it? This is why we have Ghost and Gaz for this because everyone else is fucking useless.”

“Pretty much,” Griggs mutters from behind his laptop screen. He’s been looking into any link to this place. Who built it, who was in it, what military, or what militia? He can’t find much about it either, Gaz has been helping slightly with that part. Ghost and Roach have been working on trying to make sense of the intel they were given, but apparently, it’s a load of bullshit.

Ghost’s cast gets booted from the screen, the people we reached out to now filled the screen. “First Lieutenant Connor, sir.”

I lean against the table, “What’d you find?” He holds his palm towards the screen, my heart completely plummets into the very depths of my body. Those are their tracking chips, “…W… Where were they?”

The Lieutenant clears his throat, “They were attached to two dogs, under their collars.”

“No sign of them?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “it doesn’t look like anyone has been in this area for a long time. The area is falling apart. We did head into the base that was on the intel you sent; the entire place was empty. No one has been there in a few years. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you anything positive, sir.”

“Thank you for checking, lad…” the screen goes back to Ghost’s map.

All of us just look at each other, now we have no idea where they went. They could be anywhere at this point; it’s been long enough to where they could be in a different country. I don’t even know where to go from here, what else can we do? We’re working on finding out this history, but we keep running straight into brick walls.

Gaz sits up, “Fuck the intel for now, let’s try to figure out if there’s anyone near that area. Or find any piece of the history of it. That intel is probably useless, anyway.”

Ghost nods, “That’s going to be our best bet.”

Staring at the table, my hands gripping on tightly to it. I’m trying not to lose my shit; they don’t need to see me in a vulnerable condition. I can feel their eyes on me, Price puts his hand on my shoulder. “We’re going to find them, Mac.”

“Alive?” My voice barely audible.

“You can’t think like that, Mac,” Griggs says, “we’re going to find them alive. They’re One-Four-One, remember?” He pulls his sleeve up.

All of us went out a few years ago to get a tattoo of our emblem near the crook of our left arm. I can’t remember why, however, Griggs had a point. We are the strongest Task Force, all of our skills strengthened by the fact we can all cover each other’s weak points. I look at mine, my hand balling into a fist. “That’s a good idea, Gaz.” I sit down in front of my laptop.

“Mac,” Roach looks at me until I look at him, “you trained Cat her entire life on how to deal with things like this. She can handle herself, and in a way, you also trained Soap.”

“How?”

Ghost sips his water, “You trained Price, sir, which means, in a surrogate way, you trained Soap. Not to mention those two work together better than they do with others. No offense, sir.”

He had a point, usually when they’re sent out together, it was like they were the same person. Even if this is a group matter, they’re always a step ahead of us and knew exactly what they’re doing. I used to get a bit jealous that she worked so well with him, why, I don’t know. Maybe because he is and the only person my Princess was ever romantically connected to. I brought it up once, and she answered that she’s confident in saying Soap was her other half. After that comment, the jealousy in my blood disappeared. As much as I don’t want her dating, Soap took good care of her. “None taken, lad.”

Price nods, “They’re fine, wherever they are. They have each other, we can take some form of solace in that.”

With one more glance towards the screen in the front of the room, “Let’s get digging, mates.”


	4. Give them Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat and Soap have been missing for two weeks, despite the 141 working around the clock to find the smallest of clues. The imperturbable Captain MacMillian is unraveling at each hour his daughter is lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is Italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic
> 
> If Maxim, Pavel and Ilia sentence is italicized: They're speaking Russian.

** Soap’s POV  **

I lost track of how long we’ve been here, but I know it’s been a little over a week. They’re not giving us food, and they’re only giving us enough water, so we don’t die. From what I’m seeing, they need one of us to break. We won’t. We’ll both die before that, even if one of us were to be killed. I think my ribs are fractured; it hurts to breathe. I have dried blood on me, some of its Cat’s. They had busted her lip, holding her close enough to me, making sure I was pay attention. They held her in place by her hair, kicking her if she got on her knees. They slapped her across the face, the blood coming from her lip ends up on me. She kept saying not to do anything.

They take turns beating the shit out of us, in front of us. There’s no emotional reaction, which is pissing them off even more. I guess they thought if they roughed us up, caused pain, that we would just spill everything. We’re spilling nothing, but our blood. They just won’t take the hint; you can inflict all the pain in the world on us. We’re soldiers, our Task Force is our family, we’d never put them in danger. Even if we are the ones in danger.

Cat finally wakes up; we’re hooked up to the same table again. When they brought her in here, she was unconscious, not sure why. She looks around the room, spitting some blood out. “Anything new?”

I shake my head, “No.”

She sighs heavily, slumping down in the chair. Her face is covered in dry blood, her lip is split in three different places, blood caked around the bottom of her nose. The cut that fuck did to her jaw is scabbed over, just like the one on her collarbone. Dark bags under her eyes, they’re not letting us sleep. We can sneak an hour or two, but we’d be hit until we woke up. I grab her hand for a second, then I place them on the table.

The doors swing open again, only Ilia and Pavel make their way in, without Maxim. It’s weird, they usually all three come in, but it’s just them. Ilia stands next to the table, “I’ll give you two respect, making it this far. Not a lot of soldiers are made like you two. Unfortunately, brownie points mean nothing.” Ilia nods his head towards me.

Pavel stands right next to me, placing a USP.45 against the side of my head. Cat looks up at it, her face still blank. “You either tell me where they are, or I decorate the walls with his brains.”

She and I make eye contact, _“I love you.”_

_“I love you too.”_

I watch her face; she’s looking at the gun. Her eyes start to wince slightly, meaning he’s in the process of squeezing the trigger. Starting to go deaf, my heartbeat and breathing quicken. I’ve almost died so many times before, you’d think I’d be comfortable with the thought. I was. I really was. Then I met Cat, so the reason I’m anxious is because I don’t want to leave her behind. She and I have bonded for seven years, been in love for seven years. She pulled me out of the depression that I was good at hiding. Except, she knew about it. She saw it in me, in the mix of her teasing me about my hair, told me if I never needed to talk, I could talk to her. Said she had a masters within psychology.

So, I did. We were friends, knew each other for a couple of months. Still new to this group of soldiers, Bravo Six. I felt comfortable talking to her about it, talking about my ex-wife, who fucking cheated on me with my so called ‘best friend’. It destroyed me. In between the professionalism of the discussion, she gave her personal input as well. Before I knew it, I found myself in love with her. I couldn’t figure out if she felt the same way, sometimes I thought she did, but I was never sure. Then she kissed me. She has made me happier than anyone else on this planet, and I know if I died, it would completely devastate her.

Another wince, and the trigger pulls. There wasn’t a bullet, and I let out a small heave. Ilia looked at her, “What a fucking friend you are, not a single tear, or a single show emotion to him having he head blown off.”

Pavel places his hands on my shoulders, “What a teammate.”

“Maybe the rest of their unit is already dead, probably thanks to Miss Cold Bitch over here.”

“Maybe,” Pavel looks at me, “I’ve seen some emotion from you, though. This your girlfriend?”

I shake my head, “No, she’s in a relationship with one of the others in our team.”

Ilia pushes the group photo to her, “Which one is it? I’d love to play with your little boyfriend once we find out where they are.”

“…Masked one.”

Pavel shakes his head, “There’s an avenue we haven’t venture yet, Ilia.”

Ilia raises an eyebrow at him, “What are you talking about?”

I watch as his hands slide forward from her shoulders, him placing his hands on her chest, “Something like this?”

Ilia slaps his hands away from her, _“Maxim will fucking blow your head off. You know what happened to his sister.”_

_“Do you really think he’d care in this scenario?”_

_“Yes, he would. Fucking take your hands off her before I go grab him.”_

Cat looks at me, _“They don’t know we speak their language.”_

Ilia grabs her hair, “What fucking language are you two speaking?”

“The language of nowhere.”

He digs his fingers into the scabbed over cut on her chin, “I’m getting really fucking sick of your smart mouth.”

Cat starts to scream, his other hand digging into the one across her collarbone. New blood starts running down her skin, soaking into the already stained blood on her shirt. “Where the fuck are they?” Pavel slams his hands on the table.

“Nowhere.”

Ilia removes his belt, wrapping it around Cat’s neck. He pulls hard, “You tell me where they are, or she’s going to die.”

_“Nothing-“_ He yanks it back tighter, taking away her ability to talk.

“Where?” Cat’s making a gurgling noise, her bruised fingers try pulling on the belt.

I look away, “No, you’re seeing this,” Pavel holds my head in place.

The gurgling noise stops, her pupils overcast her green irises. It’s taking everything in me not to breakdown, Ilia let’s go and she slouches forward. “You’re both terrible people, Jesus Christ.” Ilia looks at me. He slaps her across the face, “Wake up, you little bitch.”

Cat starts having a coughing fit, throwing up bile in the throws of it. She hyperventilating, her eyes lock with mine. Pavel looks between the two of us, “This is just getting annoying at this point.” He undoes her chain, taking her out of the room.

I can barely hear what she says, _“Good. Give them nothing.”_

** Task Force One-Four-One **

** Ghost’s POV **

None of us have left our building for the past two weeks, and we still have nothing. All of us digging and digging, nothing to show for it. Mac is unraveling by the day, he tries to hide it, but I heard him. I saw him go into one of the closets, shutting the door behind him. I stood next to the door, and I heard him. He was sobbing, saying a prayer that I’ve heard both Cat and Soap say a few times. I don’t know what it means, since it’s in Gaelic. I walked away after a few moments; I couldn’t listen to it. I couldn’t listen to the extremely stoic man cry over his missing daughter. His only family. Kind of brought some tears to my eyes, so I had to get away.

I’ve shed a few here and there when I find a place to be alone. Soap and Cat are my family. This Task Force is my family. I’ve lost my entire family, and this hurts so much. We keep saying they’re fine, but are they? We’re almost three weeks with nothing to go after. They could be anywhere on the planet, without a trace. Going dark for a day or two can happen with no damage, three weeks? I push the negative thoughts my from brain, I can’t think like that. None of us can, or we’re all going to fall apart.

Soap and Cat are the ones who brought me into the Task Force, it was just us and Roach for a while. The others joined a year or so of us being Task Force One-Four-One. All of us have been together for about four years now. Even those of us who still have family, they don’t speak. I think we all come from broken families. Mac’s ex-wife ditched him and Cat when she was only a few days old. Soap’s family disowned him for joining the Military because that’s how his dad ended up dying. Said they couldn’t deal with that worry. Roach’s family treated him like garbage almost his whole life. Gaz’s parents ghosted him, he has no idea where they went or why they left like that. Griggs lost his brother in Moscow a few years back, he never mentioned any other family members. Price has never mentioned any family at all, except of course Mac and Cat. Mine, well… they’re all dead.

As the days tick by, we’re running out of options. There isn’t anything to be found, and it makes me want to throw my fucking laptop out the window. Gaz and I can vent to each other, we both feel absolutely worthless right now. If anyone would find something, it’d be one of us. Here we are, standing in front of our team, with empty hands. It infuriates me to no end, and it’s driving me fucking nuts.

“Got the waters,” I set them on the middle of the table.

“Thanks, mate…” Gaz takes a bottle.

I take a seat behind my laptop, Price and Mac went to go grab us some food from the mess. Not like we eat much at this point, just enough to keep the hunger pains away and the same with headaches. I think we’ve all been awake for almost thirty-six hours at this point, doing nothing but typing away into a barrel that’s exploded.

The door opens again, Price and Mac pulling the food cart in. “C’mon, we all need to eat something,” Mac sets the trays down, and we each get one.

It’s the same food, and I pick at it a bit at a time. Still typing away, I learned to multitask this a long time ago. Mac and Price get mad if we don’t eat enough, I don’t want to put anymore stress on the man, so I abide. Nearly choking on the food, I put in my mouth, coughing it out onto my plate. “You okay, Ghost?” Roach looks over at me.

“I found something,” I cast it to the screen, “Semyon has a brother.”

The air is sucked from the room, we’ve finally fucking found something. As soon as everyone caught up, we all sit behind our laptops, digging into Maxim. We have a name; we have a lead. I sort of tear up behind my sunglasses, we have something. We’re going to find you Soap and Cat, just wait.


	5. The Ultimate Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Understanding that physical pain is not getting Cat or Soap to speak, the next avenue might. 
> 
> Roach is starting understand the reason why boxed cookies taste bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic If Maxim, Pavel and Ilia sentence is italicized: They're speaking Russian.

Pavel shoves me down into the chair across from Soap, though I’m not being hooked to the table. My hands are cuffed behind my back. I look at Soap and looks like I feel and probably how I look. We’ve been starved for three weeks at this point, only getting enough water to not die. No sleep, constant injuries. _“Three weeks?”_

Soap looks at me, _“I think so. They’re not going to come for us, are they?”_

_“I don’t know…”_

Ilia comes through the door; Maxim no longer comes with these two. Says there’s other work he needs to focus on, not us little maggots. As he said, anyway. The two of them remain silent, staring down at us. They seemed to focus on me last time, that probably means they’re going to focus on Soap this time. “Alright, so, this is really fucking annoying. Three weeks.” Ilia crosses his arms, “You two have been fucking stupid for three weeks.”

“More like you two have been more stupid,” my voice is weak, my throat still in pain from the choking, “we’ve told you that we won’t tell you anything time and time again. That comment still stands, and always will stand.”

Pavel snatches me up, forcing me to stand next to Soap. They don’t say anything as Ilia gets behind him, pulling the back of his chair so he hits the floor. He kicks Soap in his face, “You’re going to tell me where, or else he’s dying. We only need one of you alive, you realize this?”

“If either of us die, we’re still not going to say a fucking word.”

Another kick to Soap’s ribs, we are past the point of being able to keep our pain hidden. We have bruises on bruises, probably some broken bones and so, so much more to where just being alive is putting the two of us in pain. “Where?!”

_“I love you, John.”_

He coughs some blood out, _“I love you, Catronia.”_

“I swear to God, you two are so fucking stupid!” Another kick to one of his stomach.

As he goes to deliver another kick, the door opens. A solider comes in, _“Maxim is requesting you, Ilia_.”

Ilia heavy sighs, picking up Soap’s chair to sit him back at the table. “I will be back, Pavel, _fucking behave yourself.”_

“I will,” Pavel watches as he leaves the room, “do you want a scalpel today, or maybe a hook, bitch?”

“Whatever played out torture amateurism you have at your disposal. I don’t give a shit,” I glare at him.

“Something new?” I say nothing. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He shoves me to where I’m bent over the table, “What the fuck?”

Soap tries to see what he’s doing, _“Don’t you fucking dare…”_

Pavel removes the belt from his pants, dangling it in front of my eyes. “I’m starting to think that you like this kind of stuff. Would explain you not reacting to it like a normal person. You’re getting off on the pain, aren’t you?”

“You’re fucking delusional.”

“Am I?” He hits my bottom with the metal part of the belt, causing me to let out a yelp. “Yes or no?”

“No, you fucking dipshit.”

He pulls me up, grabbing the already torn collar of my shirt. Ripping it completely open, my shirt now looking like a small jacket. “Not a bad rack for soldier. What do you think?” He nods at Soap.

I see Soap fighting the urge to react with emotion, his jaw locked, body shaking from rage. “You’re disgusting.”

Pavel finds the clip to my bra between my breasts, pulling at it until my bra falls to the floor. The cold air hitting my chest, me trying to figure out how I’m supposed to deal with this. This wasn’t something my dad prepared me for because he shouldn’t have to. I can feel tears burning at the backs of my eyes, but I won’t give him even a single tear. He squeezes one extremely hard, his nails tilling into my skin. “Glad you’re not a bra stuffer, that would’ve been disappointing,” he has his hands on both sides, his nails causing my skin to break.

Soap and I remain quiet, there’s nothing we could say at this point would be emotionless. When he removes his hands, there’s a trickle of blood from where his nails tore my skin. He grips me between my legs, pinching me tightly. Trying to get free from him and trying to keep the tears at bay. Shoving me against the table again, my head hitting it pretty hard in the process. I feel him undoing the button to my pants, yanking them down. He tears my underwear off, and I keep staring at the wall. I can’t look at Soap, I can’t. _“Give them nothing.”_ Is all I can force out.

Pavel hits my bottom again with the metal part of the belt, and I cry out in pain. It strikes me three times, each one worse than the last. I think I can feel blood going down my legs, and I shut my eyes as tight as I can. He slams my face against the table again, ripping me back by my hair. Only enough to where my chest was visible, the bottom of my stomach pressed tightly against the table. I get hit again the metal part of the belt, directly over my… area. That one makes me scream, hoarse and burning my throat.

I look at Soap, he looks back and me as his eyes glaze over. He doesn’t know what to do, there’s nothing he can do. _“This isn’t your fault.”_

_“What the fuck do I do?”_

_“Close your eyes, just close your eyes like I am.”_

_“I’m sorry, Cat.”_

_“This isn’t your fault; you have nothing to be sorry for.”_

Pavel yanks my hair harder, “Does this look like recess to you two? Shut the fuck up.” His nails dig into my bottom, scratching down, and I’m completely on the verge of tears at this point. Tears escape when I hear his zipper being pulled down, him spreading my legs open. My face is against the table, his hand on the back of my head to keep it there. The pain of him forcing himself inside me makes me scream through my sobbing. He does three hard thrusts, tearing the skin that is being forced into. “Stop!” I scream at him.

He pulls me back, “I’ll stop if you tell me where your team is.” I grit my teeth, saying nothing. My face gets slammed back against the table, him tightly holding my waist. I don’t know how much longer this goes on for, it feels like it’s been hours to me.

“Pavel!” Maxim snaps as he comes through the door, shoving him away from me, _“What in the fuck are you doing?!”_

_“She’s fucking nothing!”_

Maxim looks like Ilia, _“Grab her shit and take her back to her room, then come right back here.”_

Ilia pulls my pants back up as best as he can, scooping my bra up off the floor. He pushes me through the halls, though he hasn’t blindfolded me. When they take me back to my room, they blindfold me, so I don’t know where Soap is. We’re in the same building, I know that much. I think they leave Soap in the room we just left. He unlocks my handcuffs, shoves me in and slams the door shut.

I shakily grab my bra to put it back on, tears streaming my cheeks. I don’t bother to look down at anything, button my pants back up. Crawling into one of the corners of this small room, probably the size of a closet, I pull my knees to my chest. All I can do is let the tears fall, I have no words to say.

** Task Force One-Four-One **

** Roach’s POV **

It’s now been almost a solid month since Soap and Cat went missing, only a week since we finally got a break in the case. The only issue is this guy has three different _known_ places to hide. They could be at any three places, yeah, we could all split up or what have you, but what if he’s not there. Then he gets tipped off after three different areas get raided and goes to hide somewhere, we most likely don’t know about. So, there’s that wall to get around. We’ll get around it, we always do.

Finding out about his brother has lifted our spirits slightly, since we know he has them. There is no one else that could’ve wasted time on the whole kidnapping thing. Most of the people we piss off, they’ll just kill us if they find us. They’d never keep us, even for information. Terrifying knowing that, on the other hand, great knowing that. “Three locations are all we can find,” Gaz flips through some of the pictures, “how do we go about this? We can’t get spread that thin. Just planning all three with enough soldiers might catch attention.”

Mac stares at the screen, “Do we have any idea to where he was last at?”

“Said the one in Yemen. Which if they got over there, it would be quite the ride from Russia.” Ghost is doing something on his own laptop.

“At the same time,” Griggs turns his laptop around, “that was a long time ago. We’re talking months.”

“The one from Russia,” I also turn my screen around, “it’s blurred out. This one is the only one of the three that is blurred out. Also, how do you even get an area blurred out if you’re a fucking piece of shit?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Ghost mutters.

Price looks over the screen, “Do we just gamble?”

“John?” Mac asks.

“We pick one that seems more plausible, if they’re not there, at least there’ll be more intel, right?”

“If they don’t fucking kill them.”

He sighs, “Point taken.”

Someone knocks on the door, Price opens it, “What’s this?”

“Snack box, sir.”

“Snack box?”

“Some of us soldiers gathered snacks together for you guys, sir.”

Price takes the box, “Thank you, lad.” He shuts the door, dropping the box on the table.

Mac starts taking things out of the box, sliding a box of cookies to me. I stare down at it, and I immediately think of Cat. Boxed cookies never tasted as good as hers, they tasted so much better, she would joke it’s because she made them with love. The last cookies I ate were ones she made, I don’t want to taste the boxed kind, I want to taste the ones Cat makes. There’s some small stinging at the back of my eyes. I know they’re alive, I just know they are. They have each other to lean on, that’s all they need to survive whatever is going on. “You alright, mate?” Ghost nudges me.

The table is looking at me, “I don’t want these,” I slide them towards someone else.

“Are you sure?”

I look down at the table, feeling the tears leaving my eyes. “I want Cat’s cookies, not those.” I sniffle. I’m extremely embarrassed right now, but I want her and Soap back with us. They’re my family, and it’s not fair that because no one fact checked anything, that those two have to deal with those consequences.

Ghost rubs my back, “Me too, mate… me too.”

I wipe my nose on my sleeve, “I miss them so much,” my body starts racking. I know men aren’t supposed to cry, that it wasn’t manly or whatever, but I can’t help it. When my eyes leave the table, I’m not the only one with tears on their cheeks. Ghost removes his sunglasses, wiping his eyes with his wrists. We’re not sobbing, the tears just spill from our eyes. “She was the first person that I know actually loves me, y’know? My mom was an awful human being. Cat is like my mom. I wouldn’t be here without Soap, either. The two of them brought me into something that now has become my family.”

Gaz clears his throat, “And that’s something we’ll be able to tell them when we find them. We will find them, no matter what.”

Mac nods, grabs the box of cookies, and chucks them into the trash.


	6. Retribution's Corollary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The saying goes that an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, blood for blood. 
> 
> Cat and Soap know what the subtext really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic   
> If Maxim, Pavel and Ilia sentence is italicized: They're speaking Russian.

I’m so tired and in so much pain that it hurts to move. Soap and I aren’t going to make it much longer, our bodies are going to give out on us. Our secrets dying with us, at least. I know where he is, though. I know where they keep him, and I know how to get back there. The only issue is I can’t get out of this room without one of them coming to get me. I’ve devised a last-ditch effort, probably won’t work, but I’m going to try. If it doesn’t work, we’re going to die here. I’m not dying here, and neither is Soap.

I hear someone coming, laying down on the floor, curled up in the far corner. “Get up,” That’s Ilia’s voice, not Pavel. He usually comes to get me, why is Ilia? Did… did Soap die? I don’t move, he kicks me once, but I don’t respond. Rolling me over with his foot, looking down at me. “Get up.” Again, I don’t move. “God damn…” he pulls me up. I’m complete dead weight, acting like I can’t walk anymore.

Ilia picks me up, pressing me against the wall as he searches in his pocket for the pair of handcuffs. I rip myself away from him, pinning him against the wall. Placing my hand on his mouth, “Shut the fuck up. Just shut the fuck up.”

“Fuck you!”

He keeps making a bunch of noise, calling for help and it’s getting passed my hand. If someone comes here, this won’t work. While in the middle of yelling, I sink my teeth into the side of his neck. Tearing the skin in my mouth away from his neck, the last noise he gets out is a small gurgling. He slides down the wall, falling over slightly once he’s hit the floor. Spitting the chunk of skin at his now dead body. I grab the keys he stuffed in his pocket, slipping out of the room. I close the door behind me, maybe they don’t know he came to get me.

I haven’t seen a lot of soldier activity in the building we’re in, not sure if there’s other buildings since we woke up here, all I need to know is where Soap is at. I count the doors, it’s six doors down on the left side. Cautiously opening the door, no one is in here, but Soap. I run over to him, “Soap,” I shake him.

Soap snaps awake, looking at me. “What’s going on?”

I unlock his cuffs, “We’re getting the fuck out of here.”

“Ilia?” He rubs his wrists, “where did all that blood come from?”

Glancing away, Ilia’s blood dripping from my mouth. “He… he wouldn’t be quiet. So, I ripped his fucking throat out with my teeth.”

Soap looks to the door, stepping out of the vision of the person coming in. Pavel sees me, “Where are your cuffs?”

He slams the door shut behind Pavel, kicking him in the chest so he hits the wall. He starts coughing, Soap stomping on his chest, “Let me help you, mate.” He stomps him again and again; I lean against the door. Soap wants to deal with him, and I’ll give him that. His stomping shifts down to Pavel’s manhood. Some blood starts coming out of Pavel’s mouth, not fazing Soap at all. I think I can hear his bones breaking, nothing but blood and coughing leave his mouth. With one more stomp directly on his face, Soap backs up.

I check for vitals, “No heartbeat. Let’s go.”

Soap catches his breath, “What’s our plan, love?”

I peek out the door, “I think there’s a way to contact everyone towards the other end of the building. We need to find out where Maxim is, we can’t leave him alive.”

His hand grabs the keyring from my hand, and he grabs the gun out of Pavel’s holster. “Ilia had no gun?”

“No, just the cuffs.”

Soap takes point as we quickly and quietly as we can. They’ll notice Ilia’s and Pavel’s absence soon enough, we needed to completely surprise Maxim. The place is rather empty as we get to the other end, we can hear Maxim talking to someone on the other side of the door. No one is answering him, so my guess is he’s talking on the phone to someone. Soap tries the keys, finally coming across the right one. Turning the handle, he’s not facing us.

I walk towards him as Soap locks the door, he’s too invested into the conversation on the phone, that he doesn’t even notice us. My hand is next to the phone, Soap holding the cord that connects to the wall. Grabbing the phone, I start to quickly wrap the cord around his neck, Soap yanks the cord free. He takes the phone from me, almost yanking the fucker off the floor. “How’re you doing?” I ask, smiling.

“What’s that?” Soap jokingly leans his ear towards him, “can’t hear you, mate.”

I look at the panic in Maxim’s eyes, and it feels really good to see it. Soap releases the cord a tad, “How did you get in here? Pavel and Ilia will be here any minute.”

“They’re not coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“She means,” Soap tightens the grip again, “she ripped Ilia’s throat out, and I stomped Pavel to death. Not sure how two dead guys are going to stop us, but whatever.”

My eyes catch a stapler next to me on the desk, and I grab it. I open it, to where I don’t stick something under it, it’s opens to staple things to a wall. Placing it against his eye, “Hold him still, love.” Soap tightens his grip again. The stapler against his eye, I draw my hand back and basically punch the stapler. His attempts to scream is silenced by Soap, blood tricking down his face. The silver staple is attached a little left of his pupil, “Damn, almost got a bullseye.”

“Got another try,” Soap smirks at me.

I hold the stapler remover in front of Maxim’s eyes, Soap easing the cord again. He doesn’t deserve a quick death. I’m able to hook the staple and I tear it out of his eye. I place the stapler against his other eye, doing the same thing. Some of his screams come out, “Bullseye.”

As I rip the next staple from his eye, Soap wraps the phone around one of the higher cabinets to keep him in place. It’s not actively strangling him, but there was still the pressure. Soap takes his spot next to me, _“I think I can hear other soldiers, should probably do him in. Then we can go to the room down the hall to contact the others.”_

_“Which means we have to go easy on this fucker?”_

_“Course not.”_

I glance around the room, there’s a crowbar behind me. Soap’s eyes look around as well, he picks up a paper cutter, breaking the blade off of the base. With nothing more than a nod, I swing the crowbar as hard as I can onto his mouth, blood and teeth spill out through his screams. Soap jabs the ten-inch blade directly into his stomach, twisting it for good measure. Maxim is nothing but a blubbering, bloody mess. “I thought your brother was pathetic,” I spit on him. 

We slip out the window of his office, shutting it behind us. Carefully navigating to where we think the computers are, there’s a few guards here and there. Unfortunately, we have no way to defend ourselves. Even with the pistol, we're out numbered. Any fighting would kick our asses in, we’re basically on the verge of starving to death, along with all the injuries we’ve had. He peeks in the window, no one to be found. I have to help him up into the window, pulling myself up afterwards. All the energy we had left went to making sure those three fuckers die.

I type as fast as I can to figure out where we are. We’re twenty miles away from where we first went to, and I spot a dilapidated house. Obviously, we can’t wait here, though that house is a five-mile walk. We have no choice; we have to leave this area as fast as we can. Getting through to the others will be easy, so we have that.

** Task Force One-Four-One **

** MacMillian’s POV **

I’m sitting on top of the table, taking a break from staring at the laptop screen for too long. My eyes hurt, and I have a slight headache. We’re trying to quietly scrape together enough people to be able to hit all three places. The smallest slips out, we’re fucked. The ones behind me are either still looking or taking a break like I am. Gaz and Ghost seem unbothered, but this is pretty much what their job is. A transmit I don’t recognize is attempting to contact us, so they’re not Military. Military transmits always go through.

Ghost answers the call, there’s no video. “Verify yourself,” I cross my arms.

“Dad, it’s me.” Cat’s voice comes through the speakers, everyone tearing over to stand directly in front of the screen.

“Jesus Christ, Catriona, what happened? Where are you and Soap?”

“I’m sending you the coordinates,” Cat’s voice is broken and weak.

Price looks at me, “Are you two okay?”

There’s a moment of silence, it dragging my heart down. Answer his question Princess, please. “We’re alive, that’s about as honest I can be.”

Roach looks over what’s printing, “That’s a shitty house, are you sure that’s where you want to meet?”

“Soap and I can’t go very far… that’s the closest thing to us is that house. We can’t hang around where we are now.”

My anxiety goes through the roof, “Are you guys hurt?”

“Bring the basics that I usually grab, Roach knows what I’m talking about.”

“How bad—”

“Cat, we gotta go. I think they’re starting to catch on that something is wrong.” Soap voice sounds just as broken.

“Challenge sword, countersign shield.”

The call disconnects abruptly, and we all look at each other. “Griggs and Roach, you go get the medical supplies she’s talking about. Gaz and Ghost, you guys grab whatever technical equipment that we might need. Price and I will grab our weapons, you can fly the Pavelow, right, Griggs?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s get going, we don’t have anytime to waste. It sounds like they might be in trouble.” We all run as fast as we can out of our building, breaking off to go different ways to grab what we are going to need. There’s no time to spare, they didn’t sound healthy.

** Cat and Soap  **

Soap and I are about two miles in the five-mile walk, and he’s fallen over twice already. We have no energy left; we were able to steal a couple bottles of water. I haven’t drank any of it, Soap needs it more than I do. He stumbles again, and I immediately crouch down to help him back up. “Just leave me here, Cat. I’m just slowing you down.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” I hold a bottle of water out to him, “drink some, it’ll help.”

Soap stared at the bottle, “You haven’t drank any water?”

“No, you need it more.”

“I don’t think I can make it; it hurts to breathe. I can barely walk.”

Shaking my head, I pull him up again, his arm going along my shoulders. “I’m not leaving you. We’re going to be fine; we just need to get there, and the rest are already heading towards it. They’ll have medical supplies, pain medication. I don’t care if I have to drag you there, you’re coming with me.”

A small smirk appears on his face, “You’re so stubborn sometimes, Cat.”

The walk has been mostly quiet, I think we’re in shock about everything that we went through for the last month or so. There’s plenty to talk about, but nothing is said because we know if we unpack before we’re okay, things will just continue to get worse. I try not to focus on my pain, most of it coming from… well… that area. I don’t even want to think about it.

…

Soap is laying on the only mattress that we found here. He’s asleep, my knees are tucked up to me. I just keep watching his chest, his breathing is shallow. They had to be almost here at this point, if not, Soap isn’t going to make it. My entire world will shatter into a million pieces if he doesn’t. I need him. I’ve never needed anyone else at this level that wasn’t Dad or Price. I don’t know how to be without him anymore. He is literally my everything. He’s my love, my support, my rock – everything. Seven years, we had our ups and downs, as it naturally happens because, you know, life kind of does stuff like that.

I grab his hand, holding it tightly. I caress his face, his facial hair out of control, so is his mohawk. My forehead places against his, it’s silent outside, so I’m able to hear him breathing. I remember when this dork first came into my life, a smile appears on my lips. That chestnut hair that looked like a mop, he was a little lanky too. The very first thing I noticed about him were his eyes, the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, slowly cracking into white around the very ends of his irises. Of course, I teased him a bit. My ‘hazing’ was no where near Gaz’s, those two didn’t like each other for a while, because Soap bit back at Gaz.

After a few weeks of being friends with each other, there was something off with him. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but there was something. As I ruffled his hair, I looked at him and told him if he ever needed to talk, I’d listen. It took some time before he started opening up to me. I tried really hard to keep the conversation professional, but what that stupid fucking cunt did to him boiled my blood into steam. The guy you said your vows to in front of your families, in front of God and is fighting for his country. She fucked his stupid piece of shit best friend, let him know they were expecting, just not with him. That’s what I said to him, apologized for putting my personal feeling into it.

As things went on, our bond began to get closer and closer. This nerd was working his way under my skin, something no one else on this planet has ever done. I remember when I finally accepted that I was starting to fall in love with him. It was just us out at night, sitting on a bench with each other. I can’t recall why no one else was there, but it was just us. Just having some normal chit chat, joking – normal when we would hang out. I had said something along the lines of calling him a nerd. Soap stretched out over the bench, placing his head in my lap. He smiled up at me, telling me that I loved him, and I knew it. That’s when I knew it because my face heated up slightly, those stupid butterflies in my stomach.

Our first kiss was a couple days later, hiding behind the armory. I had no idea what I was doing, Soap was literally my first everything. First kiss, first love, first time, first everything. I never felt this way about anyone else in my entire life, I didn’t even play with the thought of dating and relationships. Then he comes waltzing in, throwing all of that out of the window. The laughter died down a bit, the both of us were kind of avoiding eye contact. I thought he felt like I did, but there was that little voice of doubt that he didn’t. I went for it, my arms around his neck, his arms coiling around my hips. And that was it. He was mine. I was his.

I can’t lose him, I just can’t. The silence was broken by the sound of a Pavelow, I wait until I hear the challenge. It takes a minute for Pavelow to land, still tucking myself away from being seen. “Sword,” Dad calls out. Thank God.

I shake Soap, “Wake up.”

His eyes slowly open, “What happened?”

“They’re here,” I start pulling him up. My energy is running on fumes, though I still had his arm across my shoulders, “Shield!” I yell as loud as I can, which wasn’t much. The two of us, holding each other up at this point, come from inside the house. The rest of our team looked at us in almost horror, frozen in their place. I’m only able to get Soap halfway over before my knees hit the floor, the two of us toppling over.


	7. The Wrath of a Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soap and Cat haven't woken up after falling asleep on the Pavelow, not waking up even when moved. Task Force 141 waiting outside the room, on edge, waiting to hear what happened to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic

** MacMillian POV **

I’m the first one out of the Pavelow, looking around through the scope of my sniper. I don’t see anyone; the others file out. I start walking towards the house, “Sword!” Nothing is said, we’re all on high alert.

“Shield!” Catriona’s voice is barely heard, but it brings so much relief. She’s alive, they’re alive.

Time slows down as the two of them begin their way towards us, every inch of their bodies has some sort of mark or gore. Catriona’s face is completely covered in blood, her shirt ripped open, exposing her bra. Soap is limping, he looks no better than she does. About halfway to us, the both of them hit the floor. _“Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?!”_ I scoop her up in my arms, it’s so much worse than it looked. Price and Gaz help Soap back up, the three of them following in right after me.

Catriona wriggles out of my arms, “Lay him across these seats, Roach grab saline and an intravenous drip.” I watch as she starts to clean the area around where she’s going to stick the drip.

“Catriona, what happened?” I ask looking down at her.

“Not now,” her voice hoarse.

“Cat…”

“Not now!” She screams up at me, “He is literally on the brink of death. I need to tend to him first.”

Roach hands her what she asked for, “What else?”

Very meticulous in her work, “Oxygen tank, and a morphine injection.” As Roach looks through the things she bought, she inserts the needle into his arm. She starts the drip, Roach puts the mask on Soap, and even administered the morphine himself. Catriona has been teaching Roach how to do basic medical care. That way if we have two injured, she takes the one with the worse issues, leaving the more basic issues to him.

She takes a seat next to me, staring at Soap. Ghost walks over, taking his jacket off. “Here, Cat.” He hands it to her.

“Thank you,” she wraps the jacket around her tightly.

“Cat…” Gaz mutters, “what the bloody hell happened to you two.”

Her eyes go right back to Soap, “We didn’t break. No matter what they did, we didn’t break. We gave them nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Break?” Price scoots down the row of seats, until he’s sitting right next to where Soap’s boots are.

“Semyon had a brother, Maxim,” her hands are shaking, “they knew who we were. They knew we were the ones who killed his brother. He had a photo of Soap and I, getting ready to kick down the door. Never gave…”

“Never gave?” Roach is having a hard time looking at her.

Catriona coughs slightly, “We never gave you guys up,” she looks at me, “no matter how bad things got, we never gave you guys up.”

All of us are just stunned into silence, these two look like they’ve crawled through hell eight times, but they never broke. They took all of this pain to protect the rest of us, and I’ve never been so proud of my daughter in my life. Every drop of their blood spilled, they were gone for a whole month, who knows what happened? I don’t think Catriona is going to talk about it, and honestly, I don’t want to press her.

Roach slips back into the back of the Pavelow, grabbing another drip and intravenous drip. He walks back over to her, cleaning the spot on her arm where the needle would be stuck. His eyes kept looking from her arm, and to her face. Like he’s afraid to do this himself, but he knows that if Catriona does it, it might miss given how much she’s shaking. One more glance up, he feels around for a vein, finds it and he sticks the needle in. He quickly starts the drip, “See, I told you you’d learn, Roach,” she smiles at him.

He throws his arms around her neck, beginning to bawl. Roach had small qualms about hiding his emotions, and she’d scold us if we ever said anything. She pats his back, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“That you and Soap went through all of that to protect me. To protect us.”

“You guys would’ve done the same for us.”

Soap has a small coughing fit, swatting at the oxygen max on his face. The lad never liked having any kind of medical mask being on him. He slowly sits up, “Hey, guys…”

Catriona almost jumped over to Soap, “How are you feeling?”

He looks up at her, “Better than before.”

Ghost makes his way to sit closer to the rest of us, “What happened, mate?”

His eyes shoot directly to Catriona, they both say nothing for a moment. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”

We nod in understanding; they’d tell us after they were healthy again. The both of them are both staring at each other, Soap takes up one seat as he sits up. She walked over to him, with help from Roach as he moved her drip with her. Sitting down next to him, he puts his arm across the back of the seats, curls up to him as much as she can. My heart hurts as tears silently fell from my daughter’s eyes, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t know what happened to them. Soap finds her hand, tightly holding hers.

…

** Price’s POV **

We’re all waiting outside of their room in the infirmary, both of them fell asleep on the Pavelow. They didn’t even wake up when we were moving them over here. Mac carrying her as he always does, Ghost and Gaz carrying Soap. The nurse has been in there for a good twenty minutes, all of us sitting, getting anxious on how bad their injuries were. They were so filthy, so they might have wounds that we’re not seeing.

My eyes glance over to Mac, his arms tightly crossed, tapping his foot. I’m surprised that he hasn’t kicked the door in, wanting to know what happened to his child. We’ve looked at each other a couple times, not saying a word. What was there to say? We couldn’t rush the nurses; we couldn’t just demand answers. They had to access them to see what was wrong. I’m sure they’re dehydrated and malnourished, at the very least. 

The door finally opens, Mac jumping to his feet. “How are they?”

The nurse’s brown eyes scan over two different clipboards, tucking some of her black hair behind her ear. “Hello, I’m nurse Claudia.”

“Hi, now what happened?” Gaz snapped, I shoot a look to him, but he has every reason for his anger right now.

“Those two are a road map of injuries, it’d be easier to name things that aren’t wrong. Captain MacTavish has three cracked rips, multiple cigarette burns, blood blisters all over his hands, cracked cheekbone, other cuts, and bruising. Not to mention being malnourished, dehydrated, sleep deprived. Quite a bit of the abrasions are infected, as he currently has a fever. Due to them being kidnapped, pretty much, we checked the blood on both of them. Seeing if it was just theirs’. He has Lieutenant MacMillian’s blood on him, along with two blood samples that are not theirs.”

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Ghost mutters.

“And the Lieutenant?” I ask.

Claudia fiddled with switching the clipboard to hers. “Lieutenant MacMillian has two pretty deep cuts along her chin and collarbone, I believe it was done by a scalpel. Those two are infected, salt was mixed into with the blood around those two areas. She also has a fever from those two areas being badly infected. Her back is extremely bruised, they’re in multiple stages in healing. There are some chunks of hair missing, though it’s hard to see due to how thick her hair is. She also has bruising up and down her arms, both brow ridges are cracked. Multiple bruises all over her legs, cuts that we’re not sure what inflicted them. As we checked Captain MacTavish, she had his blood on her, and two that isn’t theirs. As for the rest…,” she glances away, “I need her permission to talk about.”

Mac clears his throat rather loud, making her turn around to look at him. “What does this say?” He points to his name on his uniform.

“Oh,” she pauses, “what’s your relationship to her?”

“I’m her father.”

Claudia shifts slightly, her eyes looking at the floor. “Would she be comfortable with everyone else listening or would you rather we speak in private?”

“We’re her family, ma’am, even if we don’t have the same last name,” Griggs rubs one of his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, “The other injuries done to Lieutenant MacMillian, she had multiple wounds on her chest, my guess it was someone’s nails, pretty deep punctures,” she stops again, “her bottom was very bruised, and whatever they made the bruises caused nicks all over the bruised areas.”

“That’s all?” Roach is slunk so far down in his chair, head in his hands. Like he was trying to hide from where this was going to.

She clears her throat, “Lieutenant MacMillian was violently raped. There’s bruising and tears around her vaginal canal, which needed sutures. Other injuries are kind of minor, but they line up with sexual assault. I’m sorry that I had to deliver that news.”

Mac’s face just goes completely blank, him staring forward like he was looking into an abyss. With one look to him, the nurse took this time to leave the room so we can process what was just said. No one moves, no one says anything. I think I’ve even still trying to catch up to what she said. Standing up abruptly, _“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”_ He picks up his chair and throws it against the wall. His hands reach for any chair that doesn’t have one of us sitting in it, continually chucking them against the wall. When he’s like this, there’s no calming him down.

Gaz has his hat in hands, wringing it so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. His eyes filled with nothing but absolute rage, his head drops, and I think he’s murmuring to himself. I can’t hear it over Mac’s destruction, though is lips are moving. Throwing his hat onto the ground, “I want blood.”

Ghost was leaning against the wall when she came in to talk to us, his back is still against it. He looked at the door that would lead to both Cat and Soap, I think he’s considering kicking the door in. As he stomps towards the door, I have to intervene him. “Fucking move, Price, or else I’m going to fucking use you to throw the fucking door open.”

“There’s nothing to do in there,” my hands on his shoulders, “the both of them aren’t awake yet, remember?”

“I gotta do something!”

“Not that!”

Frustrated from me blocking him, he turns around and puts his fist through the wall. “We know where that fucking cunt could hide, all three areas. I say we head to each one and burn them to the fucking ground until we find him.”

Roach’s head is between his knees, hands clasped behind the back of his head. His body racking, his sobbing audible. The way he’s shaking, the way he can’t seem to catch his breath, the way he’s reacting kind of hurts to watch. He actually calls Cat ‘mom’ every now and again, usually when he’s being sarcastic. We know that they had that kind of relationship, “What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?!”

Griggs makes three holes in the wall from him kicking it, “I’m with Ghost, we find him. Find out about everything he loves and everything he holds dear and fucking slit their throats in front of him. Destroy him in every fucking way possible!” Griggs can usually keep his anger in check, very few times I’ve heard him like this. However, this rage is the angriest that I’ve ever seen him be.

This room has become as volatile as war, no one was quiet. They kept throwing things and yelling about other stuff they need to do, trying to figure out how they could find anything he loved, just saying the first thing that comes to mind. Roach is still in his corner, head still between his legs and his hands were pressed against his ears. He can’t take yelling when he’s in that emotional state, says it sends him back to his abusive childhood.

I’ll be releasing my own rage somewhere else, somewhere where I don’t have to worry about breaking anything, the others are doing enough damage. Somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, and by myself. I have no idea when I’d be able to do that, but I’ll find a way after those two have woken up. I want to know exactly what happened while they were gone for a month. Every. Last. Detail.


	8. Mute Survivors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though their physical injuries were healing, their mental and emotional suffering went nowhere. Saying nothing more than what they'd learn at the hospital. 
> 
> Admit what you can't deny, deny what you can't admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic

It’s been about three weeks since Soap and I finally got rescued, there’s a different vibe between the two of us. We haven’t said anything about what we went through, outside of the rape because they knew about it. Everyone has been prying at us to tell them what happened, is Maxim still alive. Thankfully, the injuries we have are keeping us out of commission for the time being. Dad threatened Shepherd in ways he won’t explain because he fully believes that if Shepherd had done his fucking job, Soap and I would’ve been okay. He let us take leave for as long as we need, probably to avoid mysteriously disappearing. Then being found dead in a gultch, in one piece, if he was lucky.

So, it was decided that we’d all go back to the same villa we went to when we were on leave. Soap and I are in the living room, laying down together. The others are in different rooms, asleep, since it’s two in the morning. He and I are having trouble sleeping, we’re still pretty shut down. Soap refuses to speak about any of this, he keeps blaming himself. That he’s a disgrace because of what happened to me, he let it happen. No matter how many times I tell him there was nothing he could have done, he was chained to a chair. He’ll stop complaining about it for a while, but it keeps coming back up.

He has told me that I better not tell them what happened, that he and I just needed to deal with this ourselves and move on. I’m not going to tell them if he doesn’t want me to. Just like I respect everyone else’s boundaries, I’ll respect his wishes. This was our experience. I’m only willing to talk about it when he’s finally comfortable talking about it. That’s his choice, and that is his choice.

Ever since all of that, he and I are still not back to our old selves, I don’t think we ever will be. I know my silence and coldness is hurting everyone around me, but if I talk about it, I’ll burst into tears. I ignore their questions that pertain to this event. Soap shuts down too, except if you bring it up, he will straight up leave the room. He doesn’t want everyone to know how ‘useless’ he was, how ‘disgraced’ he is, how much of a ‘piece of shit’ he is. Hearing him talk about him that way kills me inside. He’s still my everything, my absolute everything. Hearing him degrade himself is really hard to listen to.

The telly is on, only for some background noise. Try to make it seem we’re doing okay, since we’re watching something. Instead of what we’re actually doing, sitting alone, in the dark, saying nothing for hours. We’ve both had nightmares that have woken at least one of them up. Dad has begged me so many times, pleading to some how get Soap to talk about it. I’ve tried, and we end up screaming at each other. Completely losing our shit since we both want to do two separate things. They’ve kind of stopped asking in his presence, if not, they’re forced to listen to us screeching profanities. We don’t directly say anything about us, just a lot of cussing.

Things go quiet, just staying in our room, doing what we’re doing now, just in bed. We haven’t done anything intimate since we’ve healed up. Constantly, Soap feels like a failure. I’m not really interested in either, everything just kept piling up. Piling up and I want to run away, but I know the pile will follow me wherever I go. Carrying it, maybe it’d lessen if we could finally be truthful to the others. Maybe it’d help fix us, fix everything we’re holding in. Just anything.

Some steps start coming downstairs, it’s Roach. He looks at us, sitting against the couch in front of me. Like he usually does. “I love this movie,” he looks back to smile at us.

I smile back, “I think it’s been on loop.”

“That’s what they usually do late at night. Are you two hungry or anything?”

“We’re good, Roach,” Soap clears his throat, “thank you, though.”

Roach is the only one who hasn’t pressed us, he realizes how much it upsets me. I’ve heard him arguing with Ghost, saying that they’re making it worse. That everyone but him is causing us more pain, and that we’ll talk about when we talk about it. Ghost countering that they’ll feel better once they’re able to talk about it. Roach refuses to ask any of it, and I appreciate it. Soap has even said he appreciates as well. Them confronting us with hostility is happening more and more. Soap has tried talking me into leaving in the middle of the night to go stay somewhere else. That he couldn’t take all this badgering.

“Do you think we can do more practice with medical stuff later?” Roach asks, turning to look at me.

I ruffle his hair slightly, “Aye, we can do that.”

…

Roach and I are in the den area, in the middle of me teaching him how to suture. I grab his hand, “Smaller loops, Roach. The tighter, the better.”

He nods, “Sorry, I’ve never been good with sewing.”

“You’ll get the hang of it.”

Roach stops suturing, looking towards the door. No one is near us, everyone else out in the living room. “Hey, Cat?”

“Mmm?”

He looks at the table, “How come Soap won’t talk about it?”

“Because he doesn’t want to.”

“But why?”

I clear my throat, “Soap… Soap just doesn’t want to. It’s both of our story, and if he doesn’t want to say anything, I’m not either.”

“Did he see it?”

My stomach drops, “I’m not talking about it, Roach. Let’s get back to suturing.”

“WOULD YOU PEOPLE FUCKING DROP IT?!” Soap’s yell echoes into the den.

Immediately, I run into the living room to stop whatever was going on. Ghost and Gaz were blocking the stairs, “Just let us help you!” Gaz grabs his arm.

I stand in front of Soap, “Move, let him go upstairs.”

“No, both of you need to tell us what happened.”

“Please…” I mutter, “just let him go upstairs.”

Ghost looks down at me, “He can go upstairs, and then you can tell us.”

“No, she won’t,” Soap bites at him, his hands tightly on my shoulders.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because it’s something we both went through,” I explain, “just let him go upstairs.”

Ghost shook his head, “Not happening.”

Soap steps in front of me, and punches Ghost straight in the face. He then shoves Gaz into a wall, stomping up the stairs. The door slams, I help Gaz up off the floor. They could yell as much as they want, Soap was stronger than both of them. Fairly sure he could throw them, but that’s not the point. I sigh heavily, “Can you guys stop provoking him, please?”

Ghost wipes the blood coming from his nose, “Why the fuck won’t _you_ talk about it? Where’s your fucking fire, Cat? Where the fuck did it go?”

“My fire is to protect Soap from all of this.”

“You. Can. Talk. About. It. So, why not do it?”

“I’ve already told you,” I grab Roach’s arm, “let’s get back to practicing.”

“Catriona,” Dad is standing in the den, “Roach, go with the others, please.”

Roach looks at me, to see what I want, not what Dad wants. “Go, Gary.”

Dad pulls the doors to the den shut, sitting on the couch next to me. “Why won’t you just tell me, Tweedy?”

I cross my arms, “Because Soap doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Why won’t you say anything?”

“I respect his wishes.”

“Tweedy.”

I look at him, “I don’t tell anyone about your PTSD. I respect that you don’t want anyone else knowing about it. I haven’t even told Soap about that.”

Dad sits there for a moment, looking over my head. Something he did when I’m right about something. He sighs, “I suppose I understand.”

“Make everyone else understand,” I stand up, “now if you don’t mind, I have to go talk to Soap.”

** Soap’s POV  **

I’m throwing all the shite I can into my duffle bag, I’m leaving whether Cat comes with me or not. I can’t take this. I can’t take being prodded at every single fucking day, just because they can’t understand that I’m not fucking talking about it. I’ve already warned Cat about it, if she tells them, I don’t think the trust I have in her would ever be restored. She said she wouldn’t tell them without my permission. The door squeaks as it opens, Cat shutting the door behind her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” I mutter over my shoulder.

“Please, don’t.”

“I can’ take this shite anymore, Cat,” I point downstairs, “I’m not going to deal with this every single fucking day until they can understand what the fuck no means.”

Cat walks towards me, grabbing my hand. She pulls me over to the bed to sit down. However, she’s not sitting, she’s standing directly in front of me. She wraps her arms around me, her forehead against mine. She usually does this to calm me down, which it’s kind of does. “Can I ask you something without you biting my head off?”

She pulls away, looking directly in my eyes. “I’ll try not to.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about it?” She whispers.

My fists tighten, “I just don’t want to.”

“But why?”

“I don’t need them knowing how much of a failure I am,” I stand, “I don’t need them to know how fucking useless I am. I couldn’t help you; I couldn’t protect you from that, and I don’t want them to know what a sorry excuse of soldier I am.”

“Please, stop talking about yourself like that.”

“I’m just telling the truth, and you know it.”

“You were cuffed to a chair, John, you tell me right fucking now how you could’ve done something. You explain that to me.”

I look down at her, not saying a thing. I can admit that I don’t know how I could’ve protected her. But I could’ve, I could’ve listened to my gut before we went anywhere near the base. I could’ve pissed him off enough to do something to me instead. “I could’ve listened to myself when I thought that we should just go, that it was just too shady.”

“I thought the same thing, try again.”

I shake my head, “I’d rather not.”

“Because you can’t.”

“Are you on my side or not?”

She let’s out a sharp gasp, “Yes, I’m on your fucking side! I’m not telling them anything, so why the fuck are you questioning where I stand?! YOU ALREADY FUCKING KNOW WHERE I STAND!”

“THEN START FUCKING SHOWING IT BY NOT LETTING THEM PROD AT YOU TOO!”

“THEY’RE NOT AFFECTING YOU WHEN THEY’RE TALKING TO ME!”

“THE FUCK IT’S NOT!”

Cat starts shaking, “Just fucking stop.”

“I will never let them know anything about that. I’m not going to out myself for being worthless. I couldn’t protect you. What kind of a fucking solider am I? I’m so fucking use- ‘”

She punches me in the mouth, knocking me on my ass. She punches like a fucking man. “I FUCKING SAID STOP TALKING ABOUT YOURSELF LIKE THAT OR I’M REALLY GOING TO WHIP YOUR ASS!”

I sit there, looking up at her. Her eyes angry, tears rolling down her face. The shaking worse, fists balled up. I get to my feet, “I suggest you don’t hit me again.”

There’s banging on the door, some commotion going on outside. The door swings open, “C’mon, Gaz, don’t do this. Think about Cat.” Griggs stands in the doorway, refusing to let Gaz in the room with us.

** Gaz’s POV **

I look up at the ceiling, listening to the two of them go at it again. I’m so sick of Soap being such a fucking baby about this. We’ve all got our horror stories; we’ve all spoken about and now he’s refusing to do the same for us. Cat too, she’s usually a spitfire, but now Soap has extinguished that to protect himself. If she’s okay to talk to us about it, then he should let her. Holding her own emotions hostage with the threat of leaving, leaving Cat! Like she doesn’t have enough abandonment anxiety between her mother, Price and Mac once. Which he knows about. He’s being so fucking selfish. I knew Cat before him, and I’m not going to let him ruin her.

My eyes shoot to Ghost, who has the same feeling as I have. He wants to do something to make Soap pull his head out of his ass, not sure what, but just anything. They're getting a little louder, since they’re on the third floor, it’s pretty muffled. All of us are downstairs in the living room, just listening to what’s going on upstairs. How Mac isn’t doing anything is beyond me, he should be putting Cat first, fuck Soap’s feelings. Shit happened to her too, and she can talk about what happened to her.

I shake my head once, “Alright, I’m going to handle this.”

“No, you’re not,” Griggs walks over to me.

“He can do what he wants,” Ghost snaps.

“Man, fuck you,” he turns around, “I knew Gaz before you, so sit the fuck down.”

“You’re not mad about what he’s doing to Cat?” I ask him.

“Of course, I am. Are you two thinking about Cat? Gaz, you of ALL fucking people, should know how much Soap means to her. You’ve been here the entire relationship, do you really fucking think trying to make Cat turn on him is a good and healthy thing to do?”

“Like making her bottle up her feelings is any worse.”

“Yeah, let’s just pit them against one another, that sounds like a fantastic idea.”

There’s a loud thud from up in the room, “He better not have hit her,” I start running up the stairs, “I’m going to fix this.”

“No, you’re not, man.” Griggs is on my heels. With the number of steps, I hear, everyone is following me up the stairs. I throw the door open, some how Griggs gets in front of me to block me from going in the room, “C’mon, Gaz, don’t do this. Think about Cat.”

“No, I’m done with all of this,” I shove him as hard as I can, him falling backwards into their room. I look at them, Soap is the one with the busted lip. The both of them look at me, Cat is in a frenzy, tears streaming her cheeks, her shaking. “Look at what you’re doing to her.”

Soap wipes his lip, “What I’m doing to her? What the fuck do you think you’re doing to her?”

“Stop being selfish and only caring about your feelings.”

Soap bares down at me, “Last I checked, a relationship is between two people. I don’t remember either of us being interested in polygamy. So, get your fucking nose out of our business.”

“Or maybe you can be a big boy,” Price crosses his arms, “acting like a child.”

“We’re all here for you,” Ghost stands next to me, “quit hiding.”

Cat stands in front of him, “Get out.”

“No, I’m not getting out,” I look at her, “the fuck are you doing? Enabling this little brat.”

“You’re acting just as immature, _Gareth_.”

My attention turns to Mac, who’s just leaning in the doorway. He’s not saying anything, probably just here in case things turn physical. Which they might, I’m tired of this. “You’re a fucking Captain- “

Cat shoves me, “Take whatever you’re going to say, and go the fuck back downstairs.”

Ignoring her, “You’re a Captain in the Military, you are the field commander of a Task Force, you’ve been a soldier for years. So, now you’re going to cower in the corner? Can’t be a big boy anymore? What is it?”

Soap walks into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Cat starts falling to pieces, knocking on the door. There’s no answer, using the speaker left in there to have music drown all of us out. She places her forehead against the door, her tears turn into full blown sobbing. I’m shoved from behind, tripping over his duffle bag and I hit the floor. Roach is standing over me, “You say one more fucking thing, and I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

Everyone just kind of looked around, Roach had never done anything like that before. It really caught me by surprise, I was expecting the push to be from Griggs. Mac walks over to Cat, “C’mon,” he pulls her from the door, “you say one more thing, _Ravensdale_ , I’m going to deal with you. Do you understand me?”

I glance down at the floor, “Yes, sir.”

Mac leaves the room with Cat, taking her into his room. Roach is still looking down at me, this fury in his eyes I’ve never seen before. We’re left in the room, music blaring from the bathroom. Mac trying to comfort a broken Cat, and I’m getting such dirty looks from both Roach and Griggs. If Soap would just man up, all of this tension and fracture would be fixed. This is splitting the One-Four-One up, and it’s really annoying he isn’t understanding that.


	9. Cat's Turmoil, Soap's Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The over questioning has become more than Soap can deal with, Cat's silence is more than the rest of the team can deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic

I roll over in bed, my hand looking for Soap. Sitting up, he’s not in bed, and he’s not in the bathroom. Turning the light on, his duffle bag is gone. Quickly running down the stairs, a window open a crack, caught on the lock. He went out the window because he doesn’t have a pair of keys for the door. I explode into tears, everything finally destroying me. I make my way up to Dad’s room, pushing the door open. I flip on the lights, “Tweedy, what happened?” He nearly falls out of bed.

“Soap’s gone,” my speech broken, slightly heaving.

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

“He left through the window; his duffle bag is gone. He left.”

Dad hugs me tightly to him, but even doing that, my sobbing was loud and uncontrollable. Price steps from his room, “What’s going on?”

“Soap left!”

The others open the doors, rubbing their eyes. I can’t stop my body racking, I can’t stop any of the tears, I feel so defeated. Dad walks me downstairs into the living room, me still bawling into his chest when we sit down on the couch. He left me. The love of my life, my everything, left. I can’t breathe. Griggs comes down the stairs, wearing a black wifebeater and some camo cargo pants. “Where are you going, lad?” Dad asks.

“To go look for him,” he walks to the door, “not a whole lot of places. We’re in the states, I’m sure the two hotels nearest to us will take notice of an accent that thick. Ya’ll stay here, especially that fucking douche Gaz.”

“Fuck you,” Gaz snaps.

Griggs has his hand on the handle to the door, “No, fuck you,” he slams the door.

** Griggs’ POV **

The first hotel I went to, he wasn’t there. I probably should’ve called a cab or something, decided against it since I’m used to walking long distances. Plus, it’s giving me time to cool down and collect my own thoughts. Before Gaz started in on that bullshit, Roach mentioned how he thinks that Soap saw what they did to Cat. If he’s right, then all that shit Gaz said was just cementing on how he felt about himself. I can’t even begin to imagine how painful that would’ve been, and how fucking horrible it would’ve been. If they were taken prisoner, a big guy like Soap had to be restrained somehow. They’d be fools to leave him unrestrained. Dude is a scary guy when it comes to strength and I know he’d go into a craze if anyone so much as poked Cat.

I don’t know why everyone, but Roach, is going so hard for Soap about this. Not respecting what Cat is trying to say without out right saying it. There’s no reason we should be splitting right now, it’s those instigators who are fucking things up, not Soap and Cat. That’s their trauma, it’s like they’re forgetting their loyalty to each other. Those two were able to keep themselves going while God knows what they were doing to them. They were being tortured, almost to death, because they wouldn’t give the rest of us up. It’s so fucking disgusting that they’re forgetting THEY ALMOST DIED TO PROTECT US.

I’m finally entering the other hotel, which is way nicer than the other one, I stand at the desk. “May I help you, sir?” She smiles at me.

“Did a guy about, six-four, black duffle bag carrying Scottish dude get a room here?”

“Yes, he did,” her smile changes, “very attractive.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not on the market. What room did he get?”

“Who are you to him?”

“A friend.”

She dials a number, “Hello, Mr. MacTavish, there’s someone here to see you?” she looks at me, “Name?”

“Griggs.”

Hanging up the phone, “I’ll have to walk you up, that room’s second keycard is missing, so I have to use our keycard.” It’s an awkward way up, knowing that she’s sniffing around Soap. Wish I could warn her about how fast Cat would throw her into the stratosphere.

“Wait,” I look at her, “I can just knock.”

She’s kind of young looking, not underage, but maybe early twenties. She ignores what I just said, not even acknowledge I said anything. A smile plastered on her face, first out of the elevator. She doesn’t even use the card, she just knocks. “I’m just making sure this is your friend.”

Soap looks at me, “Aye, he is,” he looks at her, “This is my second warning, third warning and I call my girlfriend, who will fucking eat you.”

I step into the hotel room, him slamming the door behind me, “She do something?”

He rolls his eyes, “Very forward, I was nice and said I was taken. Starts talking about how Cat doesn’t have to know.”

I laugh, “She’ll sense something wrong.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, “What do you want?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” I cross my arms, “you disappearing in the middle of the night?”

“I couldn’t handle all the questions every day, no matter how many times we said no. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I understand that, but how the fuck can you do this to Cat? Especially at this time.”

Soap’s eyes shoot to the right, “I really thought about carrying her with me, but I didn’t want Mac tearing half the city apart trying to find her.”

“Dude, she’s a fucking mess right now. I’ve never heard her cry the way she’s crying now. She’s not even speaking English, apparently. Mac called me on my way here, asking if I had found you. All I heard was her speaking whatever your guys’ language is called. She fucking needs you, man.”

“Gaelic…”

“Man, who gives a shit? You know about her abandonment issues; how could you do this to her?”

“Because she deserves someone better than me.”

I’m dumbfounded, “What in the fuck are you talking about?”

He stands up, walking over to the dresser. Not facing me, “She deserves someone who can protect her. I couldn’t protect her…”

“You both got taken prisoner, I’m assuming they had you chained up at all times. Because if they didn’t, you’d both be fine because I know you would’ve completely torn those fuckers a part. I know that, we all know that.”

“It’s not that easy…”

I lean against the wall, where I can see his profile. “Roach didn’t say Cat said anything, but I think he’s picked up that you were in the room.”

Soap’s shoulders tense, “She didn’t tell him? How would he know?”

“Because your reaction. Was he right?”

“…”

“Was he?”

Soap drops his head, “Yeah, he was right. I had to watch that. The entire time she’s…”

Walking over to him, I nudge him to look at me. “She’s what?”

For the first time, I see tears rolling down Soap’s cheeks, “S-she’s telling me that it wasn’t my fault, to close her eyes like she was doing. I couldn’t figure out what to do, but she just kept comforting me during… that… I don’t deserve someone like her.”

I’m still taken aback with his vulnerability, something that I’ve never seen. He and I have known each other for seven years, I never saw him falter. “Man… she did that because of how much she loves you. I take it you were restrained somehow?”

“Chair, cuffs on the arms, legs tied to the legs of the chair by a belt.”

I smack him upside his head, “Soap, man, what the fuck were you supposed to do?”

He rubs where I hit him, “I felt like maybe if I had bailed like I thought we should have.”

“Don’t use twenty-twenty with something like this. You and her were set up to fail because Shepherd is a fucking retard who didn’t vet the intel as much as he should have. You two would’ve been fine if people actually did their jobs.”

Looking at me, “Really?”

“Yeah, if any of us had went, they would’ve been taken instead. Can we head back now?”

Soap shakes his head, “No.”

“Dude,” I make him look at me again, “I shouldn’t have to school you about your relationship, but you two were made for each other. Cat didn’t have those feelings for anyone else, but you. You’ve helped her in ways you don’t even know about. She told me that she always felt like something was missing, that there was a hole that she could never fill. Then your punk ass shows up, and you filled that hole for her. You two made it out of that hell hole _because_ of the love you have for each other.”

He kind of smirks, “Punk ass, eh? I’m an officer now, remember?”

“Still the same punk ass Sergeant I met seven years ago,” I chuckle.

“Think she’s going to kill me?”

I shake my head, “No, she’s a complete mess right now.”

His eyes glance away, “I can’t face my men with this. I can’t face Mac or Price with this. They’d lose respect for me.”

“You’re driving me nuts, dude. We are a fucking family. Are you willing to have the entire Task Force fall apart? That’s what it’s doing. Between you two not talking, and those assholes being assholes, everyone is starting to fight. Getting all of this out will do wonders. We are the fiercest warriors on the planet, we are the One-Four-One. Stop being an idiot.”

Soap pulls his duffle bag on, “If this goes any other way, I’m blaming you.”

…

** Catronia’s POV **

I dozed off, being woken up by the door opening. Looking to see who it was, I see Soap. I basically run over the couch to him, throwing my arms around his neck. Crying into his chest, feeling his forehead on top of my head. There’s a small sniffle from him, making me pull away. His eyes are slightly red, “Where did you go?”

“Hotel a few miles away. I needed sometime to calm down.”

Dad comes back from the kitchen, a glass of Hot Toddy in his hand. His eyes scan over to Soap, “You alright, lad?”

“Just needed some air, Mac.”

Dad gives me the drink, “Understandable.”

Taking a sip, “Thank you, dad.”

“Of course, Tweedy.”

I hold it under Soap’s nose, “Want a sip?”

“Sure,” he takes the glass from me, leading me over to the couch.

Griggs leans against the wall, “I think it’s time.”

I look between the two, “About what happened?”

Soap swallows his sip from my drink, “Yeah, it is time.”

My heart is beating against my sternum, he’s finally going to let us do this. I lean against his arm as Griggs goes upstairs to get everyone. He looks at me, the worry glazing over his eyes. I gently kiss him, no matter what they say, he’s still my everything.


	10. Opening the Dam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soap realizes that he can't run forever, because if he had to run forever, Cat would not be with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Soap, Cat or Mac sentence is italicized: They're speaking Scottish Gaelic

I’m trying really hard to calm myself, I’m not going to be able to, but I’m going to try. The way we’re going to sit, in Cat and I are on the love seat, away from everyone else. They’re going to be sitting across from us on the bigger couch. Griggs advice is making this a little easier, but that’s what showing me I have to do this because it looks like this is taking pressure off of Cat. This is going to be extremely painful, but this has to be done. We’ve all agreed to stay civil, and respect boundaries.

Mac sits down in the middle of everyone, “How’d you two get caught?”

Cat shifts in her seat, “We went in to investigate the base we got sent to, realizing that there’s nothing there. Looked through all the buildings, there was nothing to find. When we went into the main building, Soap kicked the door in, and the room was literally empty… Then door slams shut behind us, canisters are thrown in. We can’t get the door open; the windows are barricaded. It was knock out gas. When we came to, our wrists were shackled to the table.”

“When did you two encounter Maxim?” Ghost is on the far left, his hair disheveled after being woken up.

I clear my throat, “Maxim comes in with two other people, Pavel and Ilia. Tosses a group photo of all of us on the table, Cat and I’s faces were circled. Then he drops the photo of us getting ready to kick the door in to kill Semyon. Asked if we knew he was, we didn’t, then he told us about being his brother. I had asked what the point was, and Maxim grabbed Cat’s ponytail and slams her face into the table. Cat kept saying to not react, don’t give them anything, being able to talk to each other in Gaelic.”

“Ilia and Pavel?” Price asks.

“They were kind of assigned to us,” Cat explains, “Ilia got Soap, I got Pavel. They were who would cause us pain, and they’d be the one to deal with us. They did a bunch of basic shit, clearly amateurs. Got hit, got cut, nothing we haven’t had done before… kind of… We had the upper hand of them not understanding Gaelic, and them not knowing we can speak Russian. Pavel nearly choked me to death with a belt, after they put a pistol against Soap’s head.”

We look at the group on the couch, I know one of them is trying to work up the nerve about who assaulted Cat. I’m not saying anything, Cat’s not saying anything. We said they could ask questions, but we wouldn’t speak freely. The uneasiness is noticed by Cat, who scoots closer to me. “Who… who raped you?” Roach is barely audible.

As I see her eyes dart to the ground, I summon as much courage as I can to say this not only to my men, but to Mac and Price. “Pavel, did. He had tried doing something similar while Ilia was in the room, and Ilia hit him and said Maxim wouldn’t let that fly. Pavel says that he wouldn’t care, Ilia threatens to tell Maxim. They’re saying this in Russian, by the way.”

“Then how did it happen?” Gaz won’t look in our direction.

“Ilia got called to do something more important, told Pavel to behave himself. After not being able to get a reaction out of us through the violence we were already put through… he… he started by ripping her shirt, causing the cuts on her chest. He was hitting her with the metal part of the belt, and then he… well… you know, I don’t want to say it. Cat kept telling me that it wasn’t my fault, that not to look, close my eyes like she was going to do. I’ve felt so fucking useless and such a disgrace that I couldn’t help her. I was restrained to a chair, arms handcuffed to the chair arm, legs against the legs of the chair with a belt… I couldn’t do anything.”

There’s a long silence, Mac has his eyes shut. Everyone trying not to be overly upset by yelling or something like that. Long stares of the angriest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. I kind of feel like they’re at me. “Lad,” Mac waits until I’m looking at him, “is that why you didn’t want to tell us?”

“I didn’t want to lose your respects…”

“You were bound to a chair,” Mac leans forward, “none of us would’ve been able to do anything. Not one of us. You are not a disgrace, none of us could’ve gotten out of being restrained like that. The important thing is you were able to get Cat out of there.”

A flood of relief goes through my body, looking down as little droplets fall from my eyes. “Just didn’t want to show weakness.”

“I can understand that,” Cat looks directly at Mac, “Want to know a secret, son?”

Mac has never, ever called me son before. It kind of threw me off, “What?”

“I understand because I’ve been hiding my PTSD from the rest of you. I didn’t want to appear fragile, either. Only Price and Cat knew about it, which is why I also understood why you didn’t want anyone, but you and Cat to know.”

“Where are those three fucks?” Griggs growls.

Cat and I look at each other, “Dead.”

Price looks at us, “Dead?”

Sighing, “It got to the point where if we didn’t do something, we were going to die there. Ilia came to get me, and it made think that maybe Soap died. I pretended I was too weak to stand up. He stood me up, had his hand on my back while I was against the wall. He was digging for the handcuffs; I was able to rip away from him. I tried putting my hand over his mouth, but he wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Someone was going to hear him. Thinking about how maybe Soap died or was in more trouble than normal… I ripped his throat out with my teeth.”

“You did what?” Mac blinks once.

“I ripped his throat out with my teeth.”

“God damn, Cat! I knew you were crazy, but holy shit!” Griggs claps his hands at the end.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Roach puts his hand up, “teeth? You bit out his throat with your teeth?”

“How many times does she have to say it?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Kill ‘em all,” Price smiles at her.

“What happened to Pavel?” Ghost is trying to stop laughing, probably due to Griggs’ reaction.

“When Cat came to get me- “

“Did you know what she did?!” Gaz asks.

“Well, yeah, she had a lot of fresh blood on her face. So, Pavel sees her in the room by herself, and he walks in asking where her handcuffs were. I was hiding behind the door, shut it once I saw him. I kicked him against the wall… I stomped his stomach, crotch and one or two times on his face. I stomped him to death. Cat even checked vitals.”

Mac grins, “Thank you, lad. Would’ve loved to meet him, but that’s just fine.”

“Ya’ll went savage,” Griggs is shaking his head.

“Called survival mode, mate,” Ghost elbows Roach.

“Maxim?” Roach leans back slightly.

I look at Cat, “I don’t even remember what we did.”

“We snuck into his office when he was on the phone, not paying attention to us. I grabbed the phone and started wrapping the cord around his neck. Soap ripped it out of the wall, and he held on to the phone since he’s stronger than I am. I stapled both his eyes, removed the staples with a stapler. Soap tied the phone against a higher cabinet, and unfortunately, we had to hurry out. I took a crowbar to his teeth, Soap used a ten-inch paper cutter blade, into the stomach and twisted.”

“You guys feel any better?” Mac glances at us.

I sit up, “You know, I kind of do.”

“TOLD YOU!” Ghost stands up.

“Shut the fuck up, Simon,” Cat playfully glares, “However, I think all of you, except Roach and Griggs, need to apologize to Soap.”

Gaz rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry, mate. I just kind of lost it while watching you two being so miserable.”

Ghost rolls his eyes, “I’m sorry for whatever it is I did, Captain.”

Price looks at me, “I’m really sorry.”

“Do I have to apologize?” Mac crosses his arms.

“Yes,” Cat nods once.

“Eh… _sorry for being a cunt, lad_.”

_“No worries, Mac._ ”

“So, when are you guys going to teach us that?” Griggs asks.

The three of us exchange looks, “Never because none of us have the patience to teach it. It’s a dying language,” Mac makes some hand gestures, “go find someone who wants to teach it.”

…

** Catronia’s POV  **

Soap and I are laying in bed together, it being ten at night. Letting it all out three days ago really lifted a weight off us. The fracturing of the One-Four-One is fixed, everything feels like it’s back to normal. Soap and I will always be scarred by what we went through, however, if we lash out because of it, they understand. Dad has been nicer to Soap since we did that, calls him son more often than lad. Although, we haven’t done any intimate stuff yet. I think he’s waiting for me to initiate it, so he knows he’s not pushing for something I didn’t want to do. I sit up, “Are you still awake?”

“Yeah,” he stretches his arms, “are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” I look over my shoulder at him.

Soap sits up, and looks at me for a moment, “Mhmm?”

Scooting closer to him, “How are you feeling?”

His eyes scan up and down my face, “I’m feeling fine,” his hand places on mine, “you?”

“I could be better.”

“Is that something I can help with?” He lays back down.

I straddle him, “Maybe.”

His hands glide up my side, under _his_ shirt I’m wearing. I lean forward, placing my lips against his. His hands glide up to my back, I pull away for a moment to let him remove the shirt. It’s been a while, but I’m ready to do this again. He sits up, “You’re ok- “

I cut off what he was about to say by pressing my lips against his, “Yes, so shush.”

“Just- “

I grab him through his pajama bottoms, hoping that’ll make him stop talking. Inching down, I pull _him_ out from the pants. Running my lips against it, doing this should show I completely want to do this. I slowly wrap my lips around it, Soap’s hand getting tangled up with my hair. I gently move up and down, his hand getting a better grip of my hair, until he’s able to control my pace. Thrusting slightly, trying to keep quiet.

Pulling me up, he pushes me to lay on back. Removing my underwear, his finger glides down my slit. I bite my bottom lip as I feel his finger slip inside me, his tongue flicks over the most sensitive part of my body. Grabbing one of my breasts, keeping my moan as subdued as possible. No one is next door to our room since we’re on the third floor. Everyone else is on the second floor, but I don’t want to risk waking any of them up. Especially since this is the first time, we’ve done anything like this in a long time. 

Soap pulls me up, his lips finding mine immediately to mine. Carefully, bestride him again, this time internally. He’s still sitting up, his arms around my back while my knees move me up and down. I don’t mind it not being as rough as our sex usually is, this feels different. This felt really different than any other time we’ve done this, minus the first time we did because I was a virgin, meaning I didn’t really know what to outside of basic biology. We tried new things the more comfortable I got with doing this act in the first place. This just feels more innermost than normal, and I love the feeling.

I’m pushed onto my back again, his face buried in my neck. He finds his way inside me, his forehead against mine. It feels like nothing else exists right now, just us. Quickening his pace, I bury my face ins his neck to try to stay quiet. My legs wrap around him, deepening what he was doing. I sink my teeth into his shoulder, little slips of my moans leak out. My fingers find the part of my body that I need to have stimulated to… get the same release as he gets. Moving my fingers against it, everything just starts to just get better and better. His pace is almost too much, it’s hard to keep quiet.

I get to my point, Soap hushes me by putting his lips against mine as quickly as he can. I’m usually a screamer, and everyone in the house almost found out about it too. I feel him emit, his lips brush against my neck. “Thought you were going to rip out my throat,” he chuckles.

“Oh, no,” I push him away enough to see his face, “that’s for when we find a place where no one else is at.”

“I’ll be sure to bring my stomping boots.”

“Jesus,” I laugh. The two of us just lay together, listening to each other breathe. Everything was finally starting to feel normal again, both of us letting go of what happened to us. Letting it go to never have to feel it again, as if it never happened. To people outside of our Task Force, nothing ever happened.


	11. Unbreakable Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm after the storm, finally comforted, Cat and Soap understand that their pain was the Task Force's pain. A family no longer divided, the strongest Force back at a hundred.

“IF YOU THROW ME ONE MORE TIME, GHOST, YOU AND I ARE GOING TO FUCKING SCRAP!” Roach calls at him, swimming away from him.

Ghost laughs, “Can’t scrap when I can just throw you across the room, mate.”

“Mom! Simon’s being a douche again!”

I peer over at the two of them, “Simon, you have to be a douche to other people too. Not just Roach.”

“Oh, good point.”

Griggs looks at him, “You fucking touch me, and I’ll drown your ass.”

Dad glances over as him and Price are in the midst of arguing on how you grill hamburgers, shaking his head at us. “Children, please, behave for five minutes.”

“Not in uniform!” Gaz yells, shoving Ghost back into the pool.

“Ah, fuck you, mate,” he wipes his face, “was going to throw Price in.”

“The fuck you’re not,” Price eyes him.

Soap glances over my head as he carries me around in the shallow end, “That would be hilarious.”

“Mmm, if my dad was thrown into, that’d be great.”

Roach whistles over to us at the very shallow end of the pool, away from where Dad and Price are taking the burgers off the grill. “Guys,” he’s quiet, “it’s now or never. We gotta do it.”

“Consequences?” Griggs questions.

Soap chuckles, “None for me, _Staff Sergeant_.”

“C’mon,” Roach looks back over at them, “Cat, Soap and I will go up through the shallow way. Griggs, Gaz, and Ghost, you climb out at the deep end. Surround them.”

The six of us sneak our way over to them, they’re too distracted about whatever it is they’re arguing about now. “Would yo…,” Price looks at us, “don’t you fucking dare.”

Dad even looks over at us, “Think about what you’re about to do, leave will end, you know?”

Gaz hooks his arms under Price’s, “We know! It’s the point!”

Ghost’s grabs his feet, “S’go, mate,” grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Soap is the only one tall enough to get his arms under Dad’s, Roach and I quickly go for his legs. “CATRIONA ESMERALDA MACMILLIAN, DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!”

They have Price on one side of the deep end, we have dad at the other. The six of us share a nod before swinging them, “One, two, three!” Roach yells, both of them getting thrown into the water.

Price spits out some water, “I’m kind of impressed by how fast you guys were to do that.”

“I agree,” Dad looks at us, “means we’ve been going too easy on them during PT.”

“I agree.”

“This is why I live in the moment,” I giggle, diving back into the water.

Soap follows in after me, lifting me up again and then drops me back in the water. I hop on his back, “Didn’t know I got a new backpack.”

“That’s the best you got?”

“No,” he falls backwards, we both go under the water. He stands up, “That was the best I got.”

“Glad you guys are getting mushy again,” Roach mutters, “never thought I’d say that, but here we are.”

“Oh, they’re definitely getting back to being mushy gushy,” Ghost winks at us.

Soap and I share a look, “Eh?” he asks.

Ghost swims over to us, popping up behind us. He leans forward to be able to be between both of our heads, “My bedroom is right below your guy's. Gotta learn to bite your lip more, Cat.”

“Oh, Jesus…” I mutter.

Soap comes to sit next to me on the bench built into the pool as I watch the others messing around with each other. He puts his arm around me, we survived hell and I’m glad we did. I’d miss watching these guys act like idiots. “Marco Polo is for nerds!” Gaz shouts.

“Then I guess you just said you’re it,” Griggs back paddles away.

“Hah!” Dad laughs.

Roach pops up near us, “You two playing?”

I shake my head, “We need a minute.”

“Aww, next round?”

“Sure.”

I wrap both of my arms around Soap, placing my forehead against his shoulder. Everything is just falling back into place, something that I never thought would happen. Soap as well, we both thought that we were going to die in that place. I never would’ve believed that we’d get here while I was lying on the ground, in a tiny cell, my love in another tiny cell. This has bonded us more together, because we know what we’re willing to do for the other. He pulls me onto his lap again, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I kiss his nose.

“PDA IS A TIME OUT, YOUNG LADY!” Dad shouts at me.

“Oh, be quiet,” Price shoots him with a water gun.

“How’d you get a water gun?”

“Found it.”

“I want it.”

“No.”

“As your commanding officer, hand over the water gun.”

“Pfft, remember Pripyat?”

“Pfft, remember taking you out of selection in the first place,” Dad gets the gun away.

“HEY!”

“Are those two really fighting about that?” I lean towards Soap.

“Aye… as the rest of them are trying to make a whirlpool…”

I sigh contently, “Our Task Force. Our family.” Soap nods in agreement, me still on his lap. All of this was worth crawling through hell for, even though those guys can get on my very last nerves, I’d be lost if they weren’t there to do that. Different walks of life, different Militaries, the fiercest of warriors, and bonded forever. We are Task Force One-Four-One.


End file.
